The Caged Bird

A year ago I asked you for your soul;
I took it in my hands, it weighed as light
As any bird's wing, it was poised for flight,
It was a wandering thing without a goal.
I caged it, and I tended it; it throve;
Wise ways I taught it; it forgot to fly;
It learnt to know its cage, its keeper; I,
Its keeper, taught it that the cage was love.
And now I take my bird out of the cage,
It flutters not a feather, looks at me
Sadly, without desire, without surprise;
See, I have tamed it, it is still and sage,
It has not strength enough for liberty,
It does not even hate me with its eyes.