Evensong: 1994. By SFF

Published by Cathie Branscheid on


On hearing birdsong in the cool of the evening after a hot day.

(Based on an Anglican hymn pattern)

“For He will hide me in His shelter in the day of trouble; He will conceal me under the cover of His tent.” Psalm 27:5

Summer’s here – hot hours swoon

Into hazy afternoon,

‘Til an evening chorus sings

“Faint we hid all weary day

In some leafy hideaway!”

Bended heads, ‘neath covering wings.

Well attended evensong

Now employs the gath’ring throng;

Sanctus! Sanctus! Hear their praise

You who are bowed down, oppressed!

In His shadow there is rest!

Sing with joy of coming days!

Sanctus! Sanctus! Faithful He!

Though ill winds scorch fearfully

And the grass grows sere and dead,

Sing of life’s awakening,

Ready in each dormant thing,

With the living water, fed.

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