The Works of William Cowper Comprising his poems, correspondence, and translations. With a life of the author, by the editor, Robert Southey |
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ON A GOLDFINCH STARVED TO DEATH IN HIS CAGE. |
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The Works of William Cowper | ||
ON A GOLDFINCH STARVED TO DEATH IN HIS CAGE.
Time was when I was free as air,
The thistle's downy seed my fare,
My drink the morning dew;
I perch'd at will on every spray,
My form genteel, my plumage gay,
My strains for ever new.
The thistle's downy seed my fare,
My drink the morning dew;
I perch'd at will on every spray,
My form genteel, my plumage gay,
My strains for ever new.
329
But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,
And form genteel were all in vain
And of a transient date,
For caught and caged and starved to death,
In dying sighs my little breath
Soon pass'd the wiry grate.
And form genteel were all in vain
And of a transient date,
For caught and caged and starved to death,
In dying sighs my little breath
Soon pass'd the wiry grate.
Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes,
And thanks for this effectual close,
And cure of every ill!
More cruelty could none express,
And I, if you had shown me less,
Had been your prisoner still.
And thanks for this effectual close,
And cure of every ill!
More cruelty could none express,
And I, if you had shown me less,
Had been your prisoner still.
The Works of William Cowper | ||