A PRISONER’S SONG

Mme. J. M. B. Guyon (1648–1717)

A little bird I am,

Shut from the fields of air,

Yet in my cage I sit and sing

To Him who placed me there;

Well pleased a prisoner to be

Because, my God, it pleases Thee.

Naught have I else 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 wandering wing,

But still He loves to hear me sing.

My cage confines me round;

Abroad I cannot fly;

But though my wing is closely bound

My heart’s at liberty;

My prison walls cannot control

The flight, the freedom, of the soul.

Ah! it is good to soar

These bolts and bars above

To Him whose purpose I adore,

Whose providence I love,

And in Thy mighty will to find

The joy, the freedom, of the mind.

The author suffered years of imprisonment in a dungeon, the only light a candle at meal times.