Broth Lyrics - Edward Thring - Bog

O swallow, with resistless wing, that hold'st the air in fee, O swallow, with thy joyous sweep o'er earth and sunlit sea, O swallow, who, if night were thine, would'st wheel amongst the stars, Why linger round the eaves? Unhappy! free of all the world hast knit thy soul to clay? And glued thy heart up on the wall, thou swiftest child of day? Claim, glorious wing, thy heritage; break, break thy prison bars, Nor linger round the eaves.