Submissive to each load and yoke thou givest,
Like the plaintless, faithful ox, without a sigh;
But soon I plead: “I poorly live; thou richly livest,
And oft receivest
“Me for some higher service still—but where?
For whom? Why serve and not be satisfied?
Why toil on land and sea, and burdens bear,
Without thy joy? O be my willing bride!”
My poor heart cried.
And lo, I saw encaged a joy-filled bird,