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the captive eagle.
Vain is thy spirit's eager bound,
And all in vain thy noble birth;
Fettered thou liest on the ground,
A clod-bound, common thing of earth.
And all in vain thy noble birth;
Fettered thou liest on the ground,
A clod-bound, common thing of earth.
My heart aches for thee, noble bird!
Fain would I free thee, if I could;
But more it longs to hear that word
Which endeth human servitude.
Fain would I free thee, if I could;
But more it longs to hear that word
Which endeth human servitude.
I have no right to waste on thee,
Poor thing! the power of sympathy:
Forgetful of the agony
Of human hearts in slavery.
Poor thing! the power of sympathy:
Forgetful of the agony
Of human hearts in slavery.
