“A little bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air,
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him who placed me there,
Well pleased a prisoner to be
Because, my god, it pleases thee.”
In a midsummer business-letter to a lady whose pen writes many bright things for children’s papers the writer, not knowing of her invalidism, expressed the hope that his correspondent might be enjoying a pleasant and restful vacation. In the allusion to this wish, in her reply, there was a touching pathos, though there was not a word of complaint. She wrote: “I am always an invalid, and my outing consists only in lying down in another place.” She is one of the Lord’s prisoners. Yet there is no gloom in her prison; her faith fills it with brightness. It is a chamber of peace; the voice of song is heard in it. Her “outing consists only in lying down in another place,” but always the Lord her Shepherd makes her “to lie down in green pastures.” Nor is she cut off from the joy of serving Christ, but is permitted in her quiet sanctuary to do many beautiful things for him, blessing many a life out in the sunshine by her loving ministry within her doors. She can sing again with Madame Guyon,
“My cage confines me round:
Abroad I cannot fly;
But, though my wing is closely bound,
My heart’s at liberty.
My prison-walls cannot control
The flight, the freedom, of my soul.”
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