Edmund Clarence Stedman - Hope Deferred lyrics

Bring no more flowers and books and precious things! O speak no more of our beloved Art, Of summer haunts,--melodious wanderings In leafy refuge from this weary mart! Surely such thoughts were dear unto my heart; Now every word a newer sadness brings! Thus oft some forest-bird caged far apart From verdurous freedom, droops his careless wings, Nor craves for more than food from day to day; So long bereft of wild-wood joy and song, Hopeless of all he dared to hope so long, The music born within him dies away; Even the song he loved becomes a pain, Full-freighted with a yearning all in vain.