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CALLS ON THE HEART.
I.
FREE Heart, that singest to-day,
Like a bird on the first green spray;
Wilt thou go forth to the world,
Where the hawk hath his wing unfurled
To follow, perhaps, thy way?
Where the tamer, thine own, will bind,
And, to make thee sing, will blind,—
While the little hip grows for the free behind?
Heart, wilt thou go?
—"No, no!
Free hearts are better so."
II.
The world, thou hast heard it told,
Has counted its robber-gold,
And the pieces stick to the hand.
The world goes riding it fair and grand,
While the truth is bought and sold!
World-voice east, world-voices west,
They call thee, Heart, from thine early rest,
"Come hither, come hither and be our guest."
Heart, wilt thou go?
—"No, no!
Good hearts are calmer so."
