Like to a Bird
Like to a bird with broken wings
Is my soul,
That cannot rise from earthly things
To view the whole.
When it would rise its poor wings trail,
— Alas! poor soul! —
It sees but one pool and the sedges pale,
Not the whole.
Is my soul,
That cannot rise from earthly things
To view the whole.
When it would rise its poor wings trail,
— Alas! poor soul! —
It sees but one pool and the sedges pale,
Not the whole.
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