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 The lark now leaves his watery nest,
 And climbing, shakes his dewy wings.
  He takes your window read more 
 The lark now leaves his watery nest,
 And climbing, shakes his dewy wings.
  He takes your window for the East
   And to implore your light he sings. 
 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. 
 It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
 No nightingale.  
 It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
 No nightingale. 
 Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings,
 And Phoebus gins arise,
  His steeds to water at read more 
 Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings,
 And Phoebus gins arise,
  His steeds to water at those springs
   On chaliced flowers that lies;
    And winking Mary-buds begin
     To ope their golden eyes.
      With every thing that pretty is,
       My lady sweet, arise,
        Arise, arise! 
 The merry lark he soars on high,
 No worldly thought o'ertakes him.
  He sings aloud to the read more 
 The merry lark he soars on high,
 No worldly thought o'ertakes him.
  He sings aloud to the clear blue sky,
   And the daylight that awakes him. 
 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. 
 Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
 Bird thou never wert,
  That from Heaven, or near it,
  read more 
 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. 
 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. 
Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.
Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.