O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad, blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
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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.

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.

Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms
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Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy swelling-place--
O, to abide in the desert with thee!

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.

Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
A hapless lover courts read more

Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
A hapless lover courts thy lay,
Thy soothing, fond complaining.

The pretty Lark, climbing the Welkin cleer,
Chaunts with a cheer, Heer peer-I neer my Deer;
Then read more

The pretty Lark, climbing the Welkin cleer,
Chaunts with a cheer, Heer peer-I neer my Deer;
Then stooping thence (seeming her fall to rew)
Adieu (she saith) adieu, deer Deer, adieu.

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!

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of read more

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long,
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm.
So hallowed and so gracious is that time.

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.