I'd like to see just how you're made,
With streaks and spots and rings;
And wish you'd show me how you played
Your shining, rainbow wings.
"'T was not," the little prisoner said,
"For want of food or drink,
That, while you slumbered on your bed,
I could not sleep a wink.
"My wings are pained for want of flight,
My lungs, for want of air.