p. 4 | A Song of the Heart by Henry Ward Beecher

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Jun 3, 1908

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 34, No. 23.

A Song of the Heart.

By Henry Ward Beecher

We can sing away our cares easier than we can reason them away. The birds are the earliest to sing in the morning; the birds are more without care than anything else I know of. Sing in the evening. Singing is the last thing that robins do. When they have done their daily work, when they have flown their last flight, and picked up their last morsel of food and cleaned their bills on the napkin of a bough, then on the top twig they sing one song of praise. I know they sleep sweeter for it. O, that we might sing every evening and morning, and let song touch song all the way thru! O, that we could put song under our burden! O, that we could extract the sense of sorrow by song! Then sad things would not poison so much. When troubles come, go at them with song. When griefs arise, sing them down. Lift the voice of praise against cares. Praise God by singing; that will lift you above trials of every sort. Attempt it. They sing in heaven; and among God's people on earth, song is the appropriate language of Christian feeling.—Henry Ward Beecher.