A little bird I am
      Shut from the fields of air;
Yet in my cage I sit and sing
      To Him who placed me there;
Well pleased a presoner to be,
Because my God, it pleases Thee.

      Naught have I else to do;
      I sing the whole day long;
And He whom most I love to please,
      Doth listen to my song;
He caught and bound my wandering wing
But still He bends to hear me sing.

      My cage confines me round;
      Abroad I cannot fly.
But though my wing is closely bound,
      My heart’s at liberty,
My prsion walls cannot control
The flight, the freedom of the soul.

      Oh, it is good to soar
      These bolts and bars above,
To Him whose purpose I adore,
      Whose providence I love;
And in Thy mighty will to find
The joy, the freedom of the mind.

~Madame Guyon

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