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The Quiet Peace

The lark cannot in sweetest song conceive
The things that pass to those who but believe,
Nor can the robin, harbinger of spring,
Perceive the notes that from our spirits ring.

The loon cannot in garbled voice compose
The song that breaks from the joyous throats of those
Whose hope soars higher than any flying bird,
Lifted higher still by the grandeur of His Word.

The silent swan may be the only one who knows
The quiet peace that lets us all suppose
That God is great, sovereign in His realm,
That He is composed, and steady at the helm.