The Cage-born bird, unhappy thing,
His keeper says that he will sing
More sweetly if his eyes are out;
With sightless soul and pinions furled,
Shut out from all the glorious world,
From radiant seas and hills and plains,
From leaping winds and sudden rains;
Through shapeless night, devoid and long,
He pours his sorrow into song.
Earth-born soul that to the stars
Looks forth from these low prison bars,
Enchained by some grim-visaged god
Of wrathful heart and ruthless rod!
For all this thirst for liberty,
For these vain struggles to be free,
This reaching out for life and love,
That mock us like a flitting dove;
For all this waste of holy fire,
For all this unfulfilled desire,
Will you with loftier spirit soar,
When sorrow darkens every door,
And guided by an inner light
With sweeter music fill the night?
