Читать книгу Poems Teachers Ask For, Book Two - Various - Страница 5

I walked through the woodland meadows,

Where sweet the thrushes sing;

And I found on a bed of mosses

A bird with a broken wing.

I healed its wound, and each morning

It sang its old sweet strain,

But the bird with a broken pinion

Never soared as high again.

I found a young life broken

By sin's seductive art;

And touched with a Christlike pity,

I took him to my heart.

He lived with a noble purpose

And struggled not in vain;

But the life that sin had stricken

Never soared as high again.

But the bird with a broken pinion

Kept another from the snare;

And the life that sin had stricken

Raised another from despair.

Each loss has its compensation,

There is healing for every pain;

But the bird with a broken pinion

Never soars as high again.