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  •   20  /  26  

    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.

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  15  /  17  

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.

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  15  /  19  

Then my dial goes not true; I look this lark for a bunting.

Then my dial goes not true; I look this lark for a bunting.

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  20  /  21  

Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
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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.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  14  /  27  

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

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

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  12  /  19  

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."

by Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  18  /  28  

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.

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  18  /  24  

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!

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  21  /  19  

The music soars within the little lark,
And the lark soars.

The music soars within the little lark,
And the lark soars.

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  21  /  25  

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.

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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