Had I But Wings Like Thine
Had I but wings like thine,
Free bird of flight,
To scale the heights that only wings can reach,
Or steer my passage o'er yon seas of light,
Whose cloudy beach
Is ever shifting like the sands of time!
Had I but wings like thine
To soar between
Those airy deeps and lower deeps more real,
Above the wrecks and ruins of the main,
The joy to feel
Of freedom on unfailing pinions mine!
Had I but wings like thing
To visit lands
Of ancient story and undimmed renown;
To roam and rest beside those glittering strands
That ages crown
With words and thoughts that lustrous gems outshine!
Had I but wings like thine!
In yonder skies,
Thy graceful form becomes a speck to view;
Had I but wings like thine I would arise,
A bird of passage too,
To pass beyond this narrow prison line!
Had I but wings like thine!
'Tis vain to long;
Ah! rather let me feel those hidden wings,
That to a higher, broader, flight belong;
Be mine a heart that ever soars and sings
Above the wrecks of wrong!
The Invalid to the Caged Bird
What are you singing my beautiful bird?
What are the words of your song?
How can you carol when always denied
The freedom for which you must long?
Once, where the wild roses blushing at morn
Grew pale at the sunset's first glow;
Hidden from sight by a cool, leafy screen,
Your little nest swung to and fro.
There your bright eyes first awoke to the light,
And your restless wings scarcely could wait;
So eager to try in the great outside world,
Their portion of fortune or fate.
But long ere your delicate velvety wings
Were penciled with faint lines of blue;
With the first eager taste of sweet freedom's delight,
A prison stood ready for you.
Have you forgotten the shadowy trees,
With the lily-bells nodding below?
Have you forgotten the rocky hill-side,
Where the wood-pinks and buttercups grow?
There I too, wandered, unfettered and free,
Ere my prison doors hid them from sight;
I too, am longing to see them again
Aglow in the sun's golden light.
For I am a prisoner, too, beautiful bird,
Shut in from the beauties I love;
Shut in from the blossoms and verdure beneath,
And the blue of the cloud-lands above.
O teach me, sweet singer, your pure, artless song,
That I may your happiness share;
And forget in the joy of a rapture like them,
The phantoms of hope and despair!
