document.write("I know what the caged bird feels, alas!<br />    When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;<br />When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,<br />And the river flows like a stream of glass;<br />    When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,<br />And the faint perfume from its chalice steals-<br />I know what the caged bird feels!<br /><br />I know why the caged bird beats his wing<br />    Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;<br />For he must fly back to his perch and cling<br />When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;<br />    And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars<br />And they pulse again with a keener sting-<br />I know why he beats his wing!<br /><br />I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,<br />    When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,-<br />When he beats his bars and he would be free;<br />It is not a carol of joy or glee,<br />    But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,<br />But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings-<br />I know why the caged bird sings!");