Escape of the Doves

Come back, pretty Doves! O, come back from the tree.

You bright little fugitive things!

We could not have thought you so ready and free

In using your beautiful wings.

We didn’t suppose, when we lifted the lid,

To see if you knew how to fly,

You’d all flutter off in a moment, and bid

The basket for ever good-by!

Come down, and we’ll feast you on insects and seeds;—

You sha’nt have occasion to roam—

We’ll give you all things that a bird ever needs,

To make it contented at home.

Then come, pretty Doves! O, return for our sakes,

And don’t keep away from us thus;

Or, when your old slumbering master awakes,

’Twill be a sad moment for us!

“We can’t!” said the birds, “and the basket may stand

A long time in waiting; for now

You find out too late, that a bird in the hand

Is worth, at least, two on the bough.

“And we, from our height, looking down on you there,

By experience taught to be sage,—

Find, one pair of wings that are free in the air

Are worth two or three in the cage!

“But when our old master awakes, and shall find

The work you have just been about,

We hope, by the freedom we love, he’ll be kind,

And spare you for letting us out.

“We thank you for all the fine stories you tell,

And all the good things you would give;

But think, since we’re out, we shall do very well

Where nature designed us to live.

“Whene’er you may think of the swift little wings

On which from your reach we have flown,

No doubt, you’ll beware, and not meddle with things,

In future, that are not your own.”