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 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. 
Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.
Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.
 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. 
 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! 
 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. 
 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. 
 The bird that soars on highest wing,
 Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
  And she that read more 
 The bird that soars on highest wing,
 Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
  And she that doth most sweetly sing,
   Sings in the shade when all things rest:
    In lark and nightingale we see
     What honor hath humility. 
 To hear the lark begin his flight,
 And singing startle the dull Night,
  From his watch-tower in read more 
 To hear the lark begin his flight,
 And singing startle the dull Night,
  From his watch-tower in the skies,
   Till the dappled dawn doth rise.