The Caged Skylark

  • The Caged Skylark

  • As a dare-gale skylark scanted in a dull cage
  • Man’s mounting spirit in his bone-house, mean house, dwells—
  • That bird beyond the remembering his free fells;
  • This in drudgery, day-labouring-out life’s age.
  • Though aloft on turf or perch or poor low stage,
  • Both sing sometimes the sweetest, sweetest spells,
  • Yet both droop deadly sometimes in their cells
  • Or wring their barriers in bursts of fear or rage.
  • Not that the sweet-fowl, song-fowl, needs no rest—
  • Why, hear him, hear him babble and drop down to his nest,
  • But his own nest, wild nest, no prison.
  • Man’s spirit will be flesh-bound when found at best,
  • But uncumbered: meadow-down is not distressed
  • For a rainbow footing it nor he for his bónes rísen.
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