THE BIRD UNCAGED.

She opened the cage, and away there flew

A bright little bird, as a short adieu

It hastily whistled, and passed the door,

And felt that its sorrowful hours were o'er.

An anthem of freedom it seemed to sing;

To utter its joy for an outspread wing,—

That now it could sport in the boundless air,

And might go any and every where.

And Anna rejoiced in her bird's delight;

But her eye was wet, as she marked its flight;

Till, this was the song that she seemed to hear;

And, merrily warbled, it dried the tear:

“I had a mistress, and she was kind,

In all, but keeping her bird confined;

She ministered food and drink to me,

But, O I was pining for liberty!

“My fluttering bosom she loved to smooth;

While the heart within it, she could not soothe:

I sickened and longed for the wildwood breeze,

My feathery kindred, and fresh green trees.

“A prisoner there, with a useless wing,

I looked with sorrow on every thing;

I lost my voice, and forgot my song,

And mourned in silence, the whole day long.

“But I will go back, with a mellower pipe,

And sing, when the cherries are round and ripe;

On the topmost bough, as I lock my feet,

To help myself, in my leafy seat.

“My merriest notes shall there be heard,

To draw her eye to her franchised bird;

The burden, then, of my song shall be,

‘ Earth for the wingless! but air for me!’”