Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
To My HeartMaurice Browne
C
What shall I say to thee? What comfort is in me
For thee, whose wings, whose heart, are bleeding, bleeding,
From the hands that clipped and the unsatisfied mouth feeding
Angrily, hungrily?
What have they done to thee? whose were the hands that caged thee,
Clipped thy wings, thy wings, and left them bleeding,
Pinionless, powerless of flight from the mouth feeding
Hungrily, wearily?
Whence did they capture thee? what heaven heard thy rapture
First, ere captivity set thy small heart bleeding,
Bleeding, unconsumed beneath the sad mouth feeding
Wearily, ceaselessly?
Whither wilt thou fly? in what deep, what height,
Hide thy maimed body, thy mouth stayed from feeding,
Thy songless mouth, thy heart bleeding, bleeding
Deathlessly, hopelessly?