Poem by Richard Henry Stoddard

Birds

Birds are singing round my window,
Tunes the sweetest ever heard,
And I hang my cage there daily,
But I never catch a bird.

So with thoughts my brain is peopled,
And they sing there all day long:
But they will not fold their pinions
In the little cage of Song!

1. How are Songs Begot and Bred?
2. The Sledge at the Gate
3. It Never Comes Again
4. Lincoln's Birthday
5. Day and Night My Thoughts Incline

Menella Smedley Birds ("Many voices in the woodlands")

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