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26

In a Cage

O heart, what boots thy wild wing-beating
At prison bars?
To thee the hope of flowers is cheating
As hope of stars.
What sadness can the sunlight bring thee,
The air so mild?
What sorrow can the blithe birds sing thee
To weep so wild?
Alas! the Spring is in all places,
And soft the air;
The woods are bright with primrose faces,
And I not there!