The bird, let loose in east­ern skies,
When hast­en­ing fond­ly home,
Ne’er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warb­lers roam.

But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low de­lay,
Where no­thing earth­ly bounds her flight,
Nor sha­dow dims her way.

So grant me, God, from ev­ery care
And stain of pass­ion free,
Aloft, through vir­tue’s pur­er air,
To hold my course to Thee!

No sin to cloud, no lure to stay
My soul, as home she springs—
Thy sun­shine on her joy­ful way,
Thy free­dom in her wings!