The Golden Bird

If joy, The Golden Bird, would fly,
Do not close an hand upon her ;
She belongeth to the sky,
With all the winds and heaven on her,
Only when her wings are free
Bird of Lovely Life is she.

He who Joy of life would store
Heart of his be widely open ;
Throw the key out, with the door,
Throw the hope out, with the hopen ;
Giver her, as she finds in sky,
Place to dip, and soar, and fly.

She will come again, I wist ;
She of thee shall not be frighted ;
She shall sing upon thy fist ;
By her shall thy dark be lighted :
By her freedom thou art given
Right and room in Joyous heaven.