A LITTLE bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air,
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him Who placed me there,
Well pleased a prisoner to be
Because, my God, it pleaseth Thee.
Naught else have I to do―
I sing the whole day long,
And He Whom most I love to please
Doth listen to my song:
He caught and bound my wand’ring wing,
But still He bends to hear me sing.
M. G.