The Captive

I want to take my heart away,

Break it away from the branch where it clings;

I want to quit the barren spray

Where now no throstle sings.

The butterflies have long since gone,

Gone to the bough where the gay blossoms are;

The sinking sun now bears the dawn

To other lands afar.

I want to break my heart away,

Tear it away from the bough where it grows;

O for the light of a free new day,

On the hill beyond the snows!