The Lady feeds Her little Bird
At rarer intervals—
The little Bird would not dissent
But meekly recognize
The Gulf between the Hand and Her
And crumbless and afar
And fainting, on Her yellow Knee
Fall softly, and adore—
At rarer intervals—
The little Bird would not dissent
But meekly recognize
The Gulf between the Hand and Her
And crumbless and afar
And fainting, on Her yellow Knee
Fall softly, and adore—
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