His keeper says that he will sing
More sweetly if his eyes are out;
With sightless soul and pinions
Shut out from all the glorious
From radiant seas and hills and
From leaping winds and sudden
Through shapeless night, devoid
He pours his sorrow into song.
Earth-born soul that to the stars
Looks forth from these low prison
Enchained by some grim-visaged
Of wrathful heart and ruthless rod!
For all this thirst for liberty,
For these vain struggles to be free,
This reaching out for life and love,
That mock us like a flitting dove;
For all this waste of holy fire,
For all this unfulfilled desire,
Will you with loftier spirit soar,
When sorrow darkens every door,
And guided by an inner light
With sweeter music fill the night?
__Elizabeth N. Barr.
The High Winds of Home
Elizabeth N. Barr
(Olathe: privately published. 1922)