 | Earth's Voices |  |
18
XI. THE SONG OF THE LARK.
High up in azure heaven
I sing a magic song,
And thrill the wild notes sweetly
In rapture loud and long.
I sing a magic song,
And thrill the wild notes sweetly
In rapture loud and long.
O joy of azure heaven,
Of white clouds as they pass,
O joy of sweet flow'rs blooming
Down in the cool green grass.
Of white clouds as they pass,
O joy of sweet flow'rs blooming
Down in the cool green grass.
O joy of winds that bear me—
O burst of song made free—
A fount of songtide spraying
In a purple sea!
O burst of song made free—
A fount of songtide spraying
In a purple sea!
O rapture of sweet music—
Too sweet, too glad, too dear—
What mystery, what wonder,
I see and hear!
Too sweet, too glad, too dear—
What mystery, what wonder,
I see and hear!
O joy of perfect singing!
O joy of life made free!
O world-joy, springing, ringing,
Joy, joy, alone I see!
O joy of life made free!
O world-joy, springing, ringing,
Joy, joy, alone I see!
| Earth's Voices | |