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      SYMPATHY by Paul Laurence Dunbar              
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      ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ              
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 I know what the caged bird feels, alas!            
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 When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;       
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 When the wind stirs soft through the
 springing grass,     ÜÛÛÜ     
     
 And the river flows like a
 stream of glass;           
ÜÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÜ      
 When the first bird sings a
nd the first bud opes,    °°±±²²
²²²²±±°°     
 And the faint perfume from
 its chalice steals - -    
³³³³º³³³º³³³³³     
 I know what the caged bird 
feels! v                  
³³³³º³³³º³³³³³     
                                                 
     ³³³³º³³³º³³³³³     
 I know why the caged bird beats his 
wing             ÃÅÅÅ×ÅÅÅ×
ÅÅÅÅ´     
 Till its blood is red on the cruel b
ars;             ³³³³º³³³º
³³Ìص¿  
 For he must fly back to his perch an
d cling          ³³³³º³³³º
³³ºÅÅÅÅ´  
 When he fain would be on the bough a
 swing;          ³³³ØÎØØØÎ
سºÅÅÅÅ´~ 
 And a pain still throbs in the old, old
 scars        ³³³³³³³³³³³ÌصÁÁÙ  
 And they pulse again with a keener sting - -       
  ÃÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅ´     
 I know why he beats his wing!                      
  ³³³³³³³³³³³³³³     
                                                      ³³³³³
³³³³³³³³³     
 I know why the caged bird sings, Ah me,            
  ³³³³³³³³³³³³³³     
 When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,       
  °°±±²²²²²²±±°°     
 When he beats his bars and he would be free;       
                     
 It is not a carol of joy or glee,                         
              
 But a prayer that he sends from his hearts deep core,     
              
 But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings - -           
              
 I know why the caged bird sings!                          
              
                                                           
           JC 

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