Sweets for Leisure Hours by E. Phillips — Read

See, see, what a sweet little prize I have found! / A Robin that lay half-benumbed on the ground: / Well hous'd and well fed, in your cage you will sing, / And make our dull winter as gay as the spring.

But stay, -- sure 'tis cruel, with wings made to soar, / To be shut up in prison, and never fly more -- / And I, who so often have long'd for a flight, / Shall I keep you prisoner? -- mamma, is that right? / No, come, pretty Robin, I must set you free -- / For your whistle, though sweet, would sound sadly to me.