She opened the cage, and away there flew
A bright little bird, as a short adieu
It hastily whistled, and passed the door,
And felt that its sorrowful hours were o'er.
An anthem of freedom it seemed to sing;
To utter its joy for an outspread wing,—
That now it could sport in the boundless air,
And might go any and every where.
And Anna rejoiced in her bird's delight;
But her eye was wet, as she marked its flight;
Till, this was the song that she seemed to hear;
And, merrily warbled, it dried the tear:
“I had a mistress, and she was kind,
In all, but keeping her bird confined;
She ministered food and drink to me,
But, O I was pining for liberty!
“My fluttering bosom she loved to smooth;
While the heart within it, she could not soothe:
I sickened and longed for the wildwood breeze,
My feathery kindred, and fresh green trees.
“A prisoner there, with a useless wing,
I looked with sorrow on every thing;
I lost my voice, and forgot my song,
And mourned in silence, the whole day long.
“But I will go back, with a mellower pipe,
And sing, when the cherries are round and ripe;
On the topmost bough, as I lock my feet,
To help myself, in my leafy seat.
“My merriest notes shall there be heard,
To draw her eye to her franchised bird;
The burden, then, of my song shall be,
‘ Earth for the wingless! but air for me!’”