VI.
Man, the caged bird that owned an higher nest,
Is here awhile detained, reluctant guest,
Who beak and plumage shatters in his rage,
And with his prison doth vain war engage:
For him the falcon watches, and his snare
The bloody fowler doth for him prepare.
Exiled from home, he here doth sadly sing,
In spring lacks autumn, and in autumn spring.
Far from his nest, he shivers on a wall,