I have seen flowers come in stony places - and kind things done by men with ugly faces, - And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races, - So I trust, too...

It tried to get from out the cage;
Here and there it ran, and tried
At the edge and the side,
In a busy, timid rage.

Trying yet to find the key
Into freedom, trying yet,
In a timid rage, to get
To its old tranquility.

It did not know, it did not see,
It did not turn an eye, or care
That a man was watching there
While it raged so timidly.

It ran without a sound, it tried
In a busy, timed rage,
To escape from out the cage
By the edges and the side.