"Sympathy" by Paul Lawrence Dunbar

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;

I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wings.

Till his 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 the 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 is 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 he sends from his heart's deep core,

But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings --

I know why the caged bird sings!