THE life of the body's a cage, And the soul within it Frets to escape, to be free, Like a lark or a linnet. But since the struggle's in vain, She is weary ere long; She chirps and she sings a little To assuage her wrong. Behind the bars she sits brooding Her evil mishap, Like a wild little hare or a rabbit That's caught in a trap, Till, dazed with despair, she is weary, And struggles no more, But plays with the sun and leaf-shadow That dance on the floor. They call—they call to each other: O sister so small, Are you there? Are you there, little brother, Behind the blank wall? Like a bird, or a hare, or a rabbit, Frightened, undone, The soul calls to another, That she be not alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAUGHTER (YOUTH SPEAKS TO HIS OWN OLD AGE) by CONRAD AIKEN TWO FUNERALS: 2. by LOUIS UNTERMEYER CHARLES AUGUSTUS FORTESCUE by HILAIRE BELLOC THE SHANNON AND THE CHESAPEAKE [JUNE 1, 1813] by THOMAS TRACY BOUVE MAY (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER IN MEMORY OF GENERAL GRANT by HENRY ABBEY |