THE MAID’S TRAGEDY

I kept two singing birds In a cage of bone— Hatched-out on the same day; But since one flew away, T’other’s alone. I spoke him gentle words And bade him sing. But he hung down his head As if discomforted, And drooped his wing. My mood was turned to rage; I stinted his seed, Opened the cage-door wide— Starve, or begone! I cried. He did not heed. Silent within his cage I see him mope Like any turtle-dove. The dumb bird I called Love, The flown bird, Hope.