Madmoments: or First Verseattempts By a Bornnatural. Addressed to the Lightheaded of Society at Large, by Henry Ellison |
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THE SKYLARK. |
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 | Madmoments: or First Verseattempts |  |
THE SKYLARK.
Sweet Bird, thy Heart within is as thy strain,And from my breast it shakes all withering cares,
As the winds do sere leaves, when springtide airs
Stir in the trees and wake life's sap again.
It seems unnatural to think of Pain
When listening to thy music, for it bears
No meanings dark, no feverish impulse shares,
Echos no idle fears, or hopes as vain.
It sounds as blithe as on that primal Day
When first thy young wing bore it up the Sky,
To the blue depths where Sorrow has no sway,
Nor mortal fret intrudes, nor fears to die!
Thus in thy perfect innocence Man may
Learn a deep lesson of Morality!
| Madmoments: or First Verseattempts | |