Ah me! I've lost my liberty;
And in this cage
My active mind
Is close confin'd:
Nor can I hope again
birthright to obtain,
Till this my gilded tenement shall be
Destroy'd by some disaster or by age.
But---how came I here?
Who was is that depriv'd my heaven-born soul,
Of the freedom she enjoy'd
In the Paradise of God;
Where no base passion could my peace controul,
or a fear? in my breast create
Twas Satan, aye 'twas he.
That robb'd me of my liberty:
His artful stare th' insidious Fowler laid,
And to this captive state my innocence betray'd.
Cruel enemy to try,
When I fear'd no danger nigh,
Thus to deceive and ruin me,
With basest arts of treachery!
But boast not, Satan, thou thy point hast gain'd.
Heav'n permits it so be,
That all the world may one day see
Justice triumphant over perfidy:
For know that Crist the conquest hath obtain'd.
Yes, and he'll quickly come,
And publicly pronounce thy doom.
So shall the horror of this crewel deed,
By which thy malice had design'd,
To draw down vengeance on mankind,
with double fury light on thy devoted head.
In the mean while I sit,
And here in groans,
And silent moans,
lament my 'prison'd state:
Ah me! I once was us'd to mount and fly,
Up thro' the trackless regions of the sky;
And as I pass'd along
In sweetly pleasing strains,
To trill my warbling song,
All o'er the ethereal plains.
But now condemn'd within this cage to lie,
I droop the wing,
Refuse to sing,
And sighing wish to die.
But why dispair?
Come try thy voice, and stretch thy wing;
A bird within a cage may chirp and sing,
And taste what Freedom is e'en while she's here.
Strike up some cheerful note;
With fond desire
Peep through the wire:
Thy keeper'll quickly come and let the out.
This, oh this, is happy news!
Now to sing I can't refuse;
These shall he the notes I chuse:
"Satan the cruel Fowler put me in
"And fast enclos'd me round with sense and sin;
"But Satan cannot keep me here;
"For not to him the cage belongs,
"'Tis Christ's, and he shall have my songs,
"Since He's my kind deliverer."
Thus awhile,
I will beguile
The passing hours away;
Assur'd my master'll not forget
To make my bed and find me meat,
So long as 'tis decreed that here I stay.
Wherefore free from all cares,
From all dangers and snares,
While Jesus my Savior is by;
O how happy I dwell,
Tho' immur'd in a cell,
Not anxious to live, nor yet fearful to die!
But soon, alas! secure of future bliss,
Senseless I grow,
And scarcely know
What real freedom is.
The little circuit of my cage
Doth all my thoughts and time engage:
With heedless feet from perch to perch I hop;
And passing round,
Pleas'd with the sound
Of tinkling bell,
Hung o'er my cell,
My nobler notes I drop.
Ah! how deprav'd this wretched heart of mine,
So soon to lose its taste for joys divine!
Busied thus with motes and straws,
Idle nonsense, empty joys,
Without a hope, without a fear
Of pleasures or of dangers near,
Asleep I fall:
Fatal security!
But hark! I hear my keepers call.
Aye, `tis his voice: now I awake,
Fancy I feel my prison shake,
And dire destruction's nigh.
Affrighted, round my cage I cast my eye,
And fluttering to and fro,
Not knowing where to go,
Attempt to make my escape but cannot fly.
Ah! silly heart,
(I fetch a sigh,
And sighing cry,)
Thus foolishly to part
With noble hopes, substantial joys,
For airy phantoms, gilded toys,
Trifles, the fond pursuit of which unman's my soul,
And leaves me to the sport of every fancied fear,
That would my peace controul.
What miseries befal a heav'n born mind,
By being thus within a cage confin'd!
Pity, Savior, pity me,
And quickly come and set me free!
My Savior hears, and straight replies
With soft compassion in his eves,
"Thy silent moans,
"And piteous groans,
"Where reason and passions ne'er shall part."
`Tis Jesus that speaks! how charming his name!
At the sound of his voice,
O how I rejoice
And kindle all into a flame!
I leap and I fly,
And in ecstasy cry,
Vain world, I bid the adieu:
I'll wait not for age,
To pull down my cage,
But, fearless of danger, will force my way through.
Check thy passions, foolish man;
The longest life is but a span.
Be contented here to stay,
Another hour, another day;
To feel a joy, to bear a pain.
To do some good, some good t'obtain.
Think not the moments long, heaven hath decreed;
Impatience cannot lash them into speed.
With meek submission wait the approaching hour:
The wheel of time will quickly whirl about,
And then thy keeper'll come and ope the door,
Put in his hand, and gently take thee out.
The day arrives.
Now thro' the wire
With strong desire,
I cast my wishful eyes.
I see him come; yes, yes, 'tis he!
Hither he hastes to set me free.
Oh the music that I hear,
Sweetly warbling in my ear!
Little songster, come away,
In this vile cell no longer stay;
But take thy flight to reams above the skies.
I hear and instantly obey;
Out of my cage I spring;
Arid as I pass the wicker'd way,
hus to myself I sing;
"How safe, how easy 'tis to die,
"With Christ my guardian angel by!
"He's my defence from pain and sin,
"From foes without and fears within.
"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy victory?"
Now I'm happy. now I'm free:
My active spirit. heav'n-born mind.
From all the dregs of sense refin'd,
Feels and enjoys her god-like dignity.
No more oppress'd with the gross atmosphere
Of error, prejudice and sin,
Freely I breathe my native air,
And drink ambrosial fragrance in.
O who can think. O who can tell,
The strange sensations now I feel!
Awhile my wings unused to light, I try,
And round and round in sportive bliss I fly:
Then through the opening skies,
In rapt'rous ecstasy I rise,
Up to the flow'ry fields of Paradise.
And as I dart along,
On full expanded wing,
Amid the angelic throng,
Celestial anthems sing:
"Glory to him that left his throne above,
"And downward he vu his way on wings of love;
"That wept, and bled, and died upon the tree,
"To conquer death and set the captive free."
Website by Allen Harrington
https://blue-hare.com/stennett/Samuel/bird.html
Copyright © 1950, 2012 Oscar Burdick & 1999-2022 Allen Harrington
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