Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

The Captive Dove

 Poor restless dove, I pity thee; 
And when I hear thy plaintive moan, 
I mourn for thy captivity, 
And in thy woes forget mine own.
To see thee stand prepared to fly, And flap those useless wings of thine, And gaze into the distant sky, Would melt a harder heart than mine.
In vain-in vain! Thou canst not rise: Thy prison roof confines thee there; Its slender wires delude thine eyes, And quench thy longings with despair.
Oh, thou wert made to wander free In sunny mead and shady grove, And, far beyond the rolling sea, In distant climes, at will to rove! Yet, hadst thou but one gentle mate Thy little drooping heart to cheer, And share with thee thy captive state, Thou couldst be happy even there.
Yes, even there, if, listening by, One faithful dear companion stood, While gazing on her full bright eye, Thou mightst forget thy native wood.
But thou, poor solitary dove, Must make, unheard, thy joyless moan; The heart, that Nature formed to love, Must pine, neglected, and alone.

by Anne Bronte
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - The Captive DoveEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Anne Bronte Poems

Analysis and Comments on The Captive Dove

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem The Captive Dove here.