 | Peace and other poems |  |
66
BY THE CAGE
Fly hence, sweet bird! thou art not bound;
The sun is warm, the air breathes sweet;
Thy tiny comrades hover round,
They peck and trip with restless feet.
The sun is warm, the air breathes sweet;
Thy tiny comrades hover round,
They peck and trip with restless feet.
Nay, nay, I would not have thee go,
I would have loved thee, would have schemed
To shield from every passing woe—
Thy cage no prison should have seemed.
I would have loved thee, would have schemed
To shield from every passing woe—
Thy cage no prison should have seemed.
I think thou would'st have loved it well,
I would have marked each eager mood,
And woven such a dainty spell
Thou wouldst have loved thy servitude.
I would have marked each eager mood,
And woven such a dainty spell
Thou wouldst have loved thy servitude.
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Thou could'st have cheered my lonely heart
To patience; and with love for skill
Hadst sung me, with untutored art,
Sweet strains of forest, field, and hill.
To patience; and with love for skill
Hadst sung me, with untutored art,
Sweet strains of forest, field, and hill.
And I, I would have striven to fill
Thy life with sweetness, richly strown
The sternest, saddest soul would thrill
To feel so sweet a life his own!
Thy life with sweetness, richly strown
The sternest, saddest soul would thrill
To feel so sweet a life his own!
It may not be! and my regret,
Sweet prisoner, shall be softly borne;
The liberty thou lov'st not yet
Is too august to shun or scorn.
Sweet prisoner, shall be softly borne;
The liberty thou lov'st not yet
Is too august to shun or scorn.
And thou far hence, in sterner days,
When through steep rain the white rays shine,
Among the dripping forest ways,
Shalt know a fuller life is thine.
When through steep rain the white rays shine,
Among the dripping forest ways,
Shalt know a fuller life is thine.
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Amid the ferny wilderness,
Beside the sharp and hissing sea,
There wilt thou somewhat sadly bless
The lonely soul that set thee free.
Beside the sharp and hissing sea,
There wilt thou somewhat sadly bless
The lonely soul that set thee free.
One tender song ere thou depart
Sing softly, for the light is low;
What, would'st thou chide me, loving heart?
Nay linger not! 'tis time to go.
Sing softly, for the light is low;
What, would'st thou chide me, loving heart?
Nay linger not! 'tis time to go.
Thy wings are strong, thine eye is bright,
The silent wood shall fence thee round;
The wind will rock thy bower to-night;
Fly hence, sweet bird; thou art not bound.
The silent wood shall fence thee round;
The wind will rock thy bower to-night;
Fly hence, sweet bird; thou art not bound.
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