Sky-Lark'S Song

II.

From the dewy grass upspringing-- From my wing the pearl-drops flinging-- Upward, with exultant singing, Let me--let me fly! Sun, with gemmed and flashing banners, List my rapturous hosannas-- As I mount, on circling wing, Higher, o'er the fragrant meadow,-- O'er the forest's broken shadow,-- O'er the hill-tops green and golden,-- Where the ivied ruins olden Echo out with sudden gladness As I break their brooding sadness With the lays I sing!

Joy, joy!--I have caught the song Of the angels that sit above!-- And warble in musical chorus alway Those notes that oftentimes earthward stray So tenderly sweet at the fall of day, What time the rose-bud's trembling spray Thrills with their lays of love!-- Joy, joy!--I have caught the song Of bright ones that sit above!-- And the far-off Earth's a forgotten thing, As I mount on free and fetterless wing, Up to the sun-fields where they sing, Drawn on by their soul of love!

Hush! is it a voice of Earth-- Of the far-away Earth, I hear? Breathing of the fragrant meadow,-- Of the drooping willow's shadow,-- Of the breezes' gentle sighing,-- Of the brooklet's low replying,-- Of the blue, o'er-arching heaven,-- Of the violet-curtained even,-- Of the tender, dreamy starlight,-- Of the hushed, majestic midnight?-- And through all that murmur so sad and low, Meanings of passionate anguish flow, Till I feel a weight on my glancing wing Bearing me earthward while yet I sing, With its burden of heavy woe.