The Captive

I want to take my heart away, Break it away from the branch where it clings; I want to quit the barren spray Where now no throstle sings.

The butterflies have long since gone, Gone to the bough where the gay blossoms are; The sinking sun now bears the dawn To other lands afar.

I want to break my heart away, Tear it away from the bough where it grows; O for the light of a free new day, On the hill beyond the snows!