THOU tiny solace of these prison days, Too long already have I kept thee here; With every week thou hast become more dear -- So dear that I will free thee: fly thy ways. Man, the alternate slave and tyrant, lays Too soon on others what he hath to bear. Thy cage is in my cage; but, never fear, The sun once more shall bathe thee with its rays. Fly forth, and tell the sunny woods how oft I think of them, and stretch my limbs in thought Upon their fragrant mosses green and soft; And whistle all the whistlings God hath taught Thy throat, to other songsters high aloft -- Not to a captive who can answer nought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RESOLUTION OF DEPENDENCE by GEORGE BARKER COMMON DUST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE GHOSTS OF THE BUFFALOES by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE CREMATION OF SAM MCGEE by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE SONNET: 36 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |