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108
TO THE SKY-LARK.
I
Whither away! companion of the sun,So high, this laughing morn? Are those soft clouds
Of floating silver, which appear to shun
Day's golden eye, thy home?—or why, 'mid shrouds
Of loosened light, dost thou pour forth thy song?—
Descend, sun-loving bird, nor try thy strength thus long.
II
Æthereal songster! soaring merrily,Thy wings keep time to thy rich music's flow;
Rolling along the sky celestially,
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Along the flood, which back reflects the sky,
And thee thou warbling speck, deep-mirrored from on high.
III
And thou hast vanished, singing, from my sight!So must this earth be lost to eyes of thine;
Around thee is illimitable light:
Thou lookest down, and all appears to shine
Bright as above! Thine is a glorious way,
Pavilioned all around with golden-spreading day.
IV
The broad unbounded sky is all thine own;Thy silvery-sheeted heaven is thy domain;
No land-mark there, no hand to bring thee down,
Glad monarch of the blue star-studded plain!
To thee is airy space far-stretching given,
The vast unmeasured floor of cherubim-trod heaven.
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V
And thou hast gone, perchance to catch the soundOf angels' voices, heard far up the sky,
And wilt return, harmonious, to the ground;
Then with new music taught by those on high,
Ascend again, and carol o'er the bowers
Of woodbines waving sweet, and wild bee-bended flowers.
VI
Lovest thou to sing alone above the dews,Leaving the nightingale to cheer the night
When rides the moon, chasing the shadowy hues
From dark-robed trees, and scattering far her light
O'er town and tower? But thou art with the sun,
Looking on wood and vale, where low-voiced rivers run.
VII
I hear thy strain;—now thou art nearing earth,Like quivering aspens moves each fluttering wing;
Rising in glee, thou comest down in mirth;—
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The morning hymn, and comest to teach thy mate
The anthem thou hast brought from heaven's gold-lighted gate?
VIII
Lute of the sky! farewell, till I againClimb these cloud-gazing hills. Thou must not come
To where I dwell, nor pour thy heaven-caught strain
Above the curling of my smoking home.
Others may hear thee, see thee, yet not steal
That joy from thy glad song which it is mine to feel!
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