poems.
99
THE CAPTIVE BIRD'S LAMENT.
"What aileth birdie mine?
Why droop his head?
Why flutter in his cage?
Why gaze with dread
In this fair face of mine?
Tell me, birdie dear.
There is water in your cup,
Sparkling ever clear.
There are seeds so fresh and white;
Taste them—they are sweet;
Yet you flutter nervously,
And 'gainst your wires beat.
What aileth birdie mine?
Why still thy note?
Why is thy breast so ruffled?
Why heaves thy throat?"
Why droop his head?
Why flutter in his cage?
Why gaze with dread
In this fair face of mine?
Tell me, birdie dear.
There is water in your cup,
Sparkling ever clear.
There are seeds so fresh and white;
Taste them—they are sweet;
Yet you flutter nervously,
And 'gainst your wires beat.
What aileth birdie mine?
Why still thy note?
Why is thy breast so ruffled?
Why heaves thy throat?"
"Mistress dear, mistress dear,
Sad is my heart,
Sad is my heart,
