Of a Skylark

At dawn I rose from silent sleep,
And heard a sky-lark singing,
Amid the azure far and deep,
Till all the arch was ringing.

And now, as deeper, deeper still
His form sank into heaven,
Me-seemed his heart’s concentered thrill,
To his loved Lord was given.

If I possessed such wondrous wings,
I would soar and sing to heaven,
Till my freed soul from sordid things,
Should thus be widely riven.