"'I can't get out', said the starling."
                              Sterne's 'Sentimental Journey'.

    Forever the impenetrable wall
      Of self confines my poor rebellious soul,
      I never see the towering white clouds roll
    Before a sturdy wind, save through the small
    Barred window of my jail. I live a thrall
      With all my outer life a clipped, square hole,
      Rectangular; a fraction of a scroll
    Unwound and winding like a worsted ball.
      My thoughts are grown uneager and depressed
        Through being always mine, my fancy's wings
    Are moulted and the feathers blown away.
      I weary for desires never guessed,
        For alien passions, strange imaginings,
    To be some other person for a day.