Heart of mine, bruised as a bird
In a wicker, beating that it free!
Heart of mine! Heart of mine!
I would soothe thee. I would sing such lays,
That thy throat would ache to sing!
Heart of mine; thou wouldst list, and listening,
Be enticed to sing with me.
I would show such fields, such greened fields,
So daisy-strewn, so poppy-flashed,
That thou wouldst dream within thy prison place,
And dreaming, flee.

I would lay such soothing hands upon thee,
Heart of mine, play upon thy chords
Such melody, that he who would
With rude acclaim to stop thy song,
Shall lose, and thou shalt sleep
Securely with the crooning of my lay.

Heart of mine! Heart of mine!
If thou shouldst bleed,
I would hold my hands beneath the drops,
Making a cup of them, that I might catch
The precious stuffs, heart of mine!
Heart of mine! I then would lift them up---
A sacrifice to Him!