THUS I lift the sash, so long <br />Shut against the flight of song; <br />All too late for vain excuse,-- <br />Lo, my captive rhymes are loose. <br /> <br />Rhymes that, flitting through my brain, <br />Beat against my window-pane, <br />Some with gayly colored wings, <br />Some, alas! with venomed stings. <br /> <br />Shall they bask in sunny rays? <br />Shall they feed on sugared praise? <br />Shall they stick with tangled feet <br />On the critic's poisoned sheet? <br /> <br />Are the outside winds too rough? <br />Is the world not wide enough? <br />Go, my winged verse, and try,-- <br />Go, like Uncle Toby's fly!<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/opening-the-window/
