Yes, thou art fair; but those blue eyes
Are not to me the azure heaven;
Nor is the food thy hand supplies,
And in such rich abundance given,
Sweet as the crumbs by labor earn'd,
Ere I of luxury had learn'd;
Nor is this splendid cage a home
Worth the free woods I long to roam:
Think'st me ungrateful for thy care—
That all thy fondness I forget?
No! songs my warmest thanks shall bear;
But, lady, I'm thy prisoner yet!
Say, is there not some kindred-one,
Absence from whom 'tis pain to bear—
And thus, when thou art here alone,
So often falls the pearly tear?
Lady, I too had once a mate,
When freedom was my happy state;
And for that mate I yet do pine,
And sorrow oft at day's decline:
God hath ordain'd that nought which lives
Should live alone, far from its kind;
Not only man the bliss receives,
Which he in fellowship doth find.
Birds of the air are paired above,
By Him who hears the raven's cry;
And shall man break the bonds of love
'Twixt harmless songsters of the sky?
No! let the little life we live
Enjoy the sweets that God doth give;
Unshackled sail the ambient air,
And carol forth our music there.
And thus, by thine own freedom blest—
By all the kindness thou canst show,
And by the love that heaves thy breast,
Lady, sweet lady! let me go!
Cedar-Brook, Plainfield, (N. J.), 1837. E. C. S.
[THE SOUL'S TRUST.]
'Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance and my God.'
Psalms.
Though troubles assail me, and dangers surround,
Though thorns in my pathway may ever be found,
Still let me not fear, for thou ever wilt be
My God and my guide, while I lean upon thee.
The sweet buds of promise may fade ere they bloom,
The hopes which are earth-born, lie low in the tomb;
And though my life's pathway seem weary to me,
I shall gather new strength, as I lean upon thee.