Poems (Shipton)/The Prisoner

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For works with similar titles, see The Prisoner.
4502811Poems — The PrisonerAnna Shipton

THE PRISONER.

"Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest. Lo, then would I wander far off, and remain in the wilderness."—Psalm lv. 6, 7.

My soul forgets the fetters that she wears,
And upward soars and sings:
Like captive bird, fast tethered to the stake,
Soon droop her weary wings.
The blue sky, in the summer sunshine, seems
Each moment yet more near;
Till now the cord recalls the bird to earth,
And dumb he falleth here.
Ay, dumb he lies! but deep within his heart
Still rests his half-sung hymn,
To swell in rapturous tones of love and joy,
When freedom comes to him.
So garner up, Soul! each glimpse of home,
Vouchsafed by heavenly love:
Soon shall the silver cord be loosed, and thou
Shalt wing thy way above.
Though solitude and darkness now be thine,
Yet count on cloudless days,
When thy glad voice shall break the silence deep
With hymns of glorious praise.
In yon far home, where thy free song shall rise,
The Spoiler entereth not;
There summer days alone remembered are,
And sin and tears forgot.