Bidding him be happy and go free,
Thinking all the while, in self-abasement,
Never more a jailer stern to be.
So I left him, lingering, fearing, sighing,
Loath to watch him soar and speed away,
Loath to see him from my roof-tree flying,
Sad to miss his songs and pretty play.
Evening fell, and in my chamber lying,
Wondering where the bird had found a nest,
What was that around me feebly flying,