THE SAD YEARS
THE TREE UPROOTED (Continued)
Then to the wind in passionate embrace
His branches moved—out sung his parting breath.
He leaned to freedom from his prison place,
Whose freedom was but death.
Better so lie, from this dire bondage free,
O heart who knew the silence of the snows!
Than stand alone, O solitary tree,
Where English greenwood grows.
Better to die than live in dull disgrace,
O soul that dreamed the glory of the dream!
To be for sparrows but a resting place,
Who heard the eagle scream.
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