A Wounded Bird's Song

Once I heard a song of sweetness as it cleft the morning air,
Sounding in its blest completeness like a tender, pleading prayer;
And I sought to find the singer whence the wondrous song was born;
Til I found a bird, sore wounded, pinioned by an ugly thorn.

I have seen a soul of sadness while its wings with pain were furled;
Giving hope and cheer and gladness that should bless the weeping world;
Soon I learned a life of sweetness was of pain and sorrow born,
For that stricken soul was singing with its heart against a thorn.

You are told of one who loves you, of a Savior crucified,
You are told of nails that pinioned, and a spear the pierced His side.
You are told of cruel scourging, of a Savior bearing scorn,
And He died for you salvation with His brow against a thorn.

You are not above the Master! Will you breathe a sweet refrain?
Then His grace will be sufficient when your heart is pierced with pain.
Will you live to bless His loved ones though your life be bruised and torn,
Like a bird that sang so sweetly with its heart against a thorn?

(The title is mine. The words were given to me by a dear friend many years ago with no title or author. It spoke to me today and I pass it on to all who have their "heart against a thorn")