text: I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
      When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
  When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
  And the river flows like a stream of glass;
      When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
  And the faint perfume from its chalice steals
  I know what the caged bird feels!
  
  I know why the caged bird beats his wing
      Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
  For he must fly back to his perch and cling
  When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
      And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
  And they pulse again with a keener sting
  I know why he beats his wing!
  
  I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
      When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,
  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!