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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.
I said to the sky-poised Lark:
"Hark--hark!
Thy note is more loud and free
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I said to the sky-poised Lark:
"Hark--hark!
Thy note is more loud and free
Because there lies safe for thee
A little nest on the ground."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.
It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
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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.