Did the voice of the captive seem sweet to thee?
—Oh! hadst thou known its deep meaning well,
It had tales of a burning heart to tell!
From a dream of the forest that music sprang,
Through its notes the peal of a torrent rang;
And its dying fall, when it sooth’d thee best,
Sigh’d for wild-flowers and a leafy nest.”
Was it with thee thus, my bird?
Yet thine eye flash’d clear and bright;
I have seen the glance of sudden joy