LINES ON A BULLFINCH, FREED.
Wu° once was held in durance vile Now flits among the leafy trees, Nor wit, nor will, nor food, nor guile May lure him back to captive ease.
Where finches throng in buoyant flight He dips and rises with the rest ; And the warm amber of the light Flushes the ruby of his breast.
Among the cool of willow sedge Where grasses droop a tawny seed, We mark him by the river's edge, His light weight balanced on a reed.
And it may be the while we watch In silence,. from a drifting boat, Hid in the leaves, our ear shall catch The small perfection of his note.
Then let him thieve the garden still, A blessed bird beyond our reach, With all the ebon of his bill Bright with the nectar of the peach.
And through a wealth of ransomed days Let him uplift his wings to fly, Let his be all the woodland ways And the wide places of the sky.