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LANDLOCK’D
“Would, from this body, as a bird
From the obdurate cliff
Winging at length her way deferr'd,
Launch'd were mine aery skiff!
“Then would I range, with unstopp'd speed,
Space, and the whole world wide.
Would then this wild rebellious need
Cease, being satisfied?”
Her quick wings beat, her cage of clay
Quivers—till “Nay!” she mourns—
“I should but win, for all my way,
New limits, other bournes!
“How do ye straiten, stepdame Earth
An alien world,” she saith,
Me, that beyond all seas and birth,
Thou, wilt Thou loose me—Death?”
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