'Scaped

Once I knew a fine song, —It is true, believe me,— It was all of birds, And I held them in a basket; When I opened the wicket, Heavens! they all flew away. I cried, “Come back, Little Thoughts!” But they only laughed. They flew on Until they were as sand Thrown between me and the sky.

English
Title Word Count: 
1
Include: 
Yes
Year Written: 
1891
Year Rounded: 
1 800
Year Estimate Only: