Captivity

The lion remembers the forest,

   The lion in chains;

To the bird that is captive a vision

   Of woodland remains.

One strains with his strength at the fetter,

   In impotent rage;

One flutters in flights of a moment,

   And beats at the cage.

If the lion were loosed from the fetter,

   To wander again;

He would seek the wide silence and shadow

   Of his jungle in vain.

He would rage in his fury, destroying;

   Let him rage, let him roam!

Shall he traverse the pitiless mountain,

   Or swim through the foam?

If they opened the cage and the casement,

   And the bird flew away;

He would come back at evening, heartbroken,

   A captive for aye.

Would come if his kindred had spared him,

   Free birds from afar—

There was wrought what is stronger than iron

   In fetter and bar.

I cannot remember my country,

   The land whence I came;

Whence they brought me and chained me and made me

   Nor wild thing nor tame.

This only I know of my country,

   This only repeat :—

It was free as the forest, and sweeter

   Than woodland retreat.

When the chain shall at last be broken,

   The window set wide;

And I step in the largeness and freedom

   Of sunlight outside ;

Shall I wander in vain for my country?

   Shall I seek and not find?

Shall I cry for the bars that encage me

   The fetters that bind?