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Up springs the lark,
Shrill-voiced, and loud, the messenger of morn;
Ere yet the shadows fly, he read more
Up springs the lark,
Shrill-voiced, and loud, the messenger of morn;
Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts
Calls up the tuneful nations.
O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad, blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
read more
O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad, blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
Too gladsome in thy singing,
Thou also soon shalt lie
Where no sweet notes are ringing.
Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
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Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
read more
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale:
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And read more
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty;
Who doth the world so gloriously behold
That cedar tops and hills seem burnished gold.
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books read more
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skilled to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings,
Shall, list'ning, in mid-air suspend their wings.
No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings,
Shall, list'ning, in mid-air suspend their wings.
The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build
Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build
Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
