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!

Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms
read more

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.

It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.

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.

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.