Iii

The cagèd bird awake All night laments his doom, And hears the dim dawn break About the darken’d room;

But in the day he sips, Contented in his place, His food from human lips, And learns the human face.

So tho’ his home remain Dark, and his fields untrod, The exile has this gain, To have found the face of God.

Confounded at the close, Confounded standing where No further pathway shows, We find an angel there

To guide us. God is good; The seeing sight is dim; He gives us solitude That we may be with Him.

By that we have we lose; By what we have not, get; And where we cannot choose The crown of life is set.

Lo, while we ask the stars To learn the will of God, His answer unawares Strikes sudden from the sod.

Not when we wait the word The word of God is giv’n; The voice of God is heard As much from earth as heav’n.

The voice of God is heard Not in the thunder-fit; A still small voice is heard, Half-heard, and that is it.

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