Tho' pleas'd with wildly-warbled song,
The minstrel's life will they prolong
With food and shelter warm?
No,—see, to shun the cruel snare,
Again he wings the frozen air,
And dies amidst the storm.
How sweeter far it were to see
The bird familiar, fond, and free,
With confidence intrude;—
To see him to the table come,