SYMPATHY
Paul Laurence Dunbar 1872-1906
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals -
I know what the caged bird feels!
I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting -
I know why he beats his wing!
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore, -
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings -
I know why the caged bird sings!
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THE ARROW AND THE SONG
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807-82
I shot an Arrow into the air,
It fell to earth I know not where,
For so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breath'd a Song into the air,
It fell to earth, I know not where.
For who has sight so keen and strong
That it can follow the flight of a song?
Long, long afterward in an oak
I found the Arrow still unbroke;
And the Song from beginning to end
I found again in the heart of a friend.
-o0o-
THE OLD WOMAN
Joseph Campbell (Seosamh MacCathmhaoil) 1879-1944
As a white candle in a holy place
So is the beauty of an aged face.
As the spent radiance of the winter sun,
So is a woman with her travail done,
Her brood gone from her and her thoughts as still
As the waters under a ruined mill.
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TWO SPARROWS
Humbert Wolfe 1885-1940
Two sparrows, feeding,
Heard a thrush
Sing to the dawn,
The first said, “Tush!
In all my life
I never heard
A more affected
Singing bird.”
The second said,
“It’s you and me
Who slave to keep
The likes of he.”
“And if we cared,”
Both sparrows said,
“We’d do that singing
On our head.”
The thrush pecked sideways
And was dumb.
“And now,” they screamed,
“He’s pinched our crumb!”
-o0o-
THE POETRY PATH COMES TO AN END TODAY.
However, the new blog MY CHOICE MY DELIGHT which began on Monday will be updated three times a week and will include a poem each time. The next post is on Monday 19th January'
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