Author Anonymous Dainty fine bird, that art encagid there, Alas, how like thine and my fortunes are. Both prisoners be, and both singing thus Strive to please her, that hath imprisoned us. Only thus we differ, thou and I, Thou liv'st singing, but I sing and die. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments