Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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THE LARK. |
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 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
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THE LARK.
Lark! universal singer! go
Where the Sunshine-sources seem forth to flow,
Bury thyself in that grave of light,
Hidden from thought and hidden from sight,
Triumphal, strong, and festal singer,
Raised thus by thine own zeal on high,
In the luxury of thy joyaunce linger
'Mid the rosy chambers of the sky!
Where the Sunshine-sources seem forth to flow,
Bury thyself in that grave of light,
Hidden from thought and hidden from sight,
Triumphal, strong, and festal singer,
Raised thus by thine own zeal on high,
In the luxury of thy joyaunce linger
'Mid the rosy chambers of the sky!
Glad Minstrel of the Morning—go
And sing from the Heaven to Earth below,
Let every sweet and hallowed note
Charged with celestial meanings float,
Go—the strong winds dare not delay thee
Upon thy glad and glorying course,
Lo! how the liegeless clouds obey thee,
As the foeman files, the charging horse!
And sing from the Heaven to Earth below,
Let every sweet and hallowed note
Charged with celestial meanings float,
Go—the strong winds dare not delay thee
Upon thy glad and glorying course,
Lo! how the liegeless clouds obey thee,
As the foeman files, the charging horse!
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Hark to the ringing rushing song,
It bears our very Souls along
In dizzying haste beyond—above—
Borne on the strength of hope and love;
Holiest of Singers—sing thou ever,
And draw our spirits up on high,
What weak bars shall suffice to sever
From the Heaven of deathless harmony!
It bears our very Souls along
In dizzying haste beyond—above—
Borne on the strength of hope and love;
Holiest of Singers—sing thou ever,
And draw our spirits up on high,
What weak bars shall suffice to sever
From the Heaven of deathless harmony!
Holiest of Singers—sing thou on,
Till for us the heights of thought are won,
Till won the heights of thought may be
By the Bard of fiery Soul and free,
By the enthusiast and the dreamer,
By the zealot keen and the lover fond,
By even the World's ambitious schemer—
And heights, yet the heights of thought beyond!
Till for us the heights of thought are won,
Till won the heights of thought may be
By the Bard of fiery Soul and free,
By the enthusiast and the dreamer,
By the zealot keen and the lover fond,
By even the World's ambitious schemer—
And heights, yet the heights of thought beyond!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |