54
to a city pigeon.
Thou wilt not leave them—gentle bird, in thee
I read a lesson of eternal things;
So does the spirit, longing to be free,
Too oft forget its birth, and fold its wings:
We, too, have ties that bind us here below,
And dread to break them all and soar away;
There is a brighter, better land, we know,
Yet fondly cling to one which must decay;
We know beyond us, lies a world of bliss,
And yet, with all its ill, we fix our hearts in this!
I read a lesson of eternal things;
So does the spirit, longing to be free,
Too oft forget its birth, and fold its wings:
We, too, have ties that bind us here below,
And dread to break them all and soar away;
There is a brighter, better land, we know,
Yet fondly cling to one which must decay;
We know beyond us, lies a world of bliss,
And yet, with all its ill, we fix our hearts in this!
