Charles H. Spurgeon on Psalms 147:9

Behold, and look away your low despair;

See the light tenants of the barren air:

To them, nor stores, nor granaries belong,

Nought but the woodlands and the pleasing song;

Yet, your kind heavenly Father bends his eye

On the least wing that flits along the sky.

To him they sing when Spring renews the plain;

To him they cry in Winter's pinching reign;

Nor is the music, nor their plaint, in vain.

He hears the gay, and the distressful call,

And with unsparing bounty fills them all.

Will he not care for you, ye faithless, say?

Is he Unwise? Or, are ye less than they? —James Thomson, 1700-1748.