Sometimes I've dreamed the cricket told me true; I've longed for freedom and the pleasing view Of moss-grown hummocks and great whispering trees, With gold-winged songsters humming in the breeze. The dream is over—I have lived my day Nourished in sun with other violets gay; And now I'm borne afar to Paradise, To find my haven in your gentle eyes. If I may touch your lips I'll die content Without one glimpse of freedom or days spent In woodland dells; oh, murmur, while I fade, Your own sweet mem'ries of the forest glade! Come, tell me quickly, for my brief hours pass; What! You too captive in a house of glass? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE, WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER CHANGED by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO A THESAURUS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PATRIOTISM AND FREEDOM by JOANNA BAILLIE THE POET'S TERROR AT THE BALIFFS OF EXETER, FR. FREEDOM: A POEM by ANDREW BRICE |