My Starred Hymns
My FlexScores
My Hymnals
My Purchased Files
Planning worship?
Check out our sister site, ZeteoSearch.org,
for 20+ additional resources related to your search.
- |
User Links
Instance Results
I am fond of the swallow, I learn from her flight
Author: William Cowper; Jeanne M. B. Guyon Hymnal: Hymns, Selected from Various Authors, for the Use of Young Persons 3rd Am. from 9th London ed. #d110 (1840) Hymnal Title: Hymns, Selected from Various Authors, for the Use of Young Persons 3rd Am. from 9th London ed. Languages: English
I am fond of the swallow, I learn from her flight
I am fond of the swallow, I learn from her flight
Author: William Cowper; Jeanne M. B. Guyon Hymnal: Hymns, Selected from Various Authors, for the Use of Young Persons #d101 (1826) Hymnal Title: Hymns, Selected from Various Authors, for the Use of Young Persons Languages: English
I am fond of the swallow, I learn from her flight
I am fond of the swallow—I learn from her flight
Author: Madame Guyon; William Cowper Hymnal: Translations from the French of Madame de la Mothe Guion #3 (1800) Hymnal Title: Translations from the French of Madame de la Mothe Guion First Line: I am fond of the swallow - I learn from her flight Lyrics:
I am fond of the swallow—I learn from her flight,
Had I skill to improve it, a lesson of love:
How seldom on earth do we see her alight!
She dwells in the skies, she is ever above.
It is on the wing that she takes her repose,
Suspended and poised in the regions of air,
'Tis not in our fields that her sustenance grows,
It is winged like herself—'tis ethereal fare.
She comes in the spring, all the summer she stays,
And, dreading the cold, still follows the sun—
So, true to our love, we should covet his rays,
And the place where he shines not immediately shun.
Our light should be love, and our nourishment prayer;
It is dangerous food that we find upon earth;
The fruit of this world is beset with a snare,
In itself it is hurtful, as vile in its birth.
'Tis rarely, if ever, she settles below,
And only when building a nest for her young;
Were it not for her brood, she would never bestow
A thought upon anything filthy as dung.
Let us leave it ourselves ('tis a mortal abode),
To bask every moment in infinite love;
Let us fly the dark winter, and follow the road
That leads to the dayspring appearing above.
Languages: English
I am fond of the swallow—I learn from her flight
