Provided For

God looked down, down from high atop the throne
Of all the universe to lowly earth
And caused the upper atmosphere to birth
A gale, and so arrived the storm cloud, blown
Over the plains, to dry sun flowers grown
Up near an aged oak tree whose slender girth
God hollowed out for his dear sparrows’ mirth.
For seed and home his praises they intone.
Sing, sparrows, sing, of God’s good varied grace!
Your unhatched offspring God’s provided for!
In raptured song enliven every face
That walks these fields and glimpses your full store.
And may your sweet, dependent songs replace
Fear’s dread in them with hope forevermore.

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