anne bronte - the captive dove - jo wyatt lyrics
poor restless dove, i pity thee;
and when i hear thy plaintive moan
i mourn for thy captivity
and in thy woes forget mine own
to see thee stand prepared to fly
and flap those useless wings of thine
and gaze into the distant sky
would melt a harder heart than mine
in vain—in vain! thou canst not rise
thy prison roof confines thee there;
its slender wires delude thine eyes
and quench thy longings with despair
oh, thou wert made to wander free
in sunny mead and shady grove
and far beyond the rolling sea
in distant climes, at will to rove!
yet, hadst thou but one gentle mate
thy little drooping heart to cheer
and share with thee thy captive state
thou couldst be happy even there
yes, even there, if, listening by
one faithful dear companion stood
while gazing on her full bright eye
thou might’st forget thy native wood
but thou, poor solitary dove
must make, unheard, thy joyless moan;
the heart that nature formed to love
must pine, neglected, and alone
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