High at the window in her cage, <br /> The old canary sits and sings, <br />Nor sees across the curtain pass <br /> The shadow of a swallow's wings. <br /> <br />A poor deceit and copy this <br /> Of larger lives that count their span, <br />Unreckoning of wider worlds, <br /> Or gifts that Heaven keeps for man! <br /> <br />She gathers piteous bits and shreds, <br /> This solitary mateless thing, <br />Patient to build again the nest <br /> So rudely scattered spring by spring; <br /> <br />And sings her brief, unheeded songs, <br /> Her dreams of bird-life wild and free, <br />Yet never beats her prison bars <br />At sound of song from bush or tree. <br /> <br />Yet in my busiest hours I pause, <br /> Held by a sense of urgent speech, <br />Bewildered by that spark-like soul <br /> Able my very soul to reach. <br /> <br />She will be heard; she chirps me loud <br /> When I forget those gravest cares, <br />Her small provision to supply— <br /> Clear water or the seedsman's wares. <br /> <br />She begs me now for that chief joy <br /> The round great world is made to grow— <br />Her wisp of greenness. Hear her chide <br /> Because my answering thought is slow! <br /> <br />What can my life seem like to her? <br /> A dull, unpunctual service mine, <br />Stupid before her eager speech, <br /> Her flitting steps, her insight fine! <br /> <br />To open wide thy prison door, <br />Poor friend, would give thee to thy foes; <br />And yet a plaintive note I hear, <br /> As if to tell how slowly goes <br /> <br />The time of thy long prisoning. <br /> Bird! does some promise keep thee sane? <br />Will there be better days for thee? <br /> Will thy soul too know life again? <br /> <br />Ah, none of us have more than this— <br /> If one true friend green leaves can reach <br />From out some fairer, wider place, <br /> And understand our wistful speech!<br /><br />Sarah Orne Jewett<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-caged-bird-3/
