There is an old legend of a nun. She had gone into the thick solitudes to listen to the forest voices. Seated in the shade of a tree she heard a song till then new to her ears. It was the song of the mystic bird. In that song she heard in music all that man thinks and feels, all that he seeks and that he fails to find. On strong wings that song lifted her soul to the heights where it looks upon reality. There, with hands clasped, the nun listened and listened, forgetting earth, sky, time and even self - listened for long centuries, never tiring, but ever finding in that voice a sweetness forever new.
Just such music, only infinitely sweeter, does the soul find that listens amid its solitudes to the voice of God.
Just such music, only infinitely sweeter, does the soul find that listens amid its solitudes to the voice of God.
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