Quotes about lark, page 24
Aubade
THE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest,
And climbing shakes his dewy wings.
He takes this window for the East,
And to implore your light he sings--
Awake, awake! the morn will never rise
Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.
The merchant bows unto the seaman's star,
The ploughman from the sun his season takes,
But still the lover wonders what they are
Who look for day before his mistress wakes.
Awake, awake! break thro' your veils of lawn!
Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn!
poem by Sir William Davenant
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The New Nature
A very sophisticated cat and dog
Together sit, quietly upon a log
They observe a lark
Hopping through Central Park
Both by instinct
Desire to leap
But, both by sheer will
Remain perfectly still -
The wild bird, fully unaware
Passes inches in front of the pair
Merrily singing it's song
As it bounces along -
After the prey has flown
One thing remains to be known:
Why had neither the dog nor cat
Been on the attack?
' Quite easily explained '
Comes their mutual refrain,
' As well-informed, green-thinking, modern agrarians
We have, ofcourse, become organic vegetarians.'
poem by Smoky Hoss
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A Starry World
When the sun is set, the shadow shine dark
Over the lake, where the stars glitter bright
The Earth sings its lullaby of the lark
In the black surroundings me there is light
From the stars in the sky shining to me
They're like little snowflakes on black velvet
I look up at the night sky and I see
The world unfolds stories across the black net
Stories of heroes, villians, and this world
Where all people live under this sky
And everyone is different but a pearl
The treasure of life that bare
Us together in one chain across the nations
We are like stars on the sky connections.
poem by Nicole Hiebing
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Halloween, trick or treat.
Come evening we open the door,
And see quaint sights of blood and gore,
We find the streets are strange to walk,
Tales of horror are all the talk,
For one night all love the bizarre,
While the plain leads to a faux pas,
Costume is donned as it gets dark,
As many seize the chance to lark,
There's many frights and smiles to see,
As souls seem inhibition free,
Children en masse take to the street,
Whilst seeking a trick or a treat,
The macabre is put on display,
Pumpkins carved in an artful way,
Sweets are scoffed at a shocking rate,
And children stay up far too late.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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By Faith With Thanksgiving
LOVE is no bird that nests and flies,
No rose that buds and blooms and dies,
No star that shines and disappears,
No fire whose ashes strew the years:
Love is the god who lights the star,
Makes music of the lark's desire,
Love tells the rose what perfumes are,
And lights and feeds the deathless fire.
Love is no joy that dies apace
With the delight of dear embrace--
Love is no feast of wine and bread,
Red-vintaged and gold-harvested:
Love is the god whose touch divine
On hands that clung and lips that kissed,
Has turned life's common bread and wine
Into the Holy Eucharist.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Fairy Hunt
Who would hear the fairy horn
Calling all the hounds of Finn
Must be in a lark's nest born
When the moon is very thin.
I who have the gift can hear
Hounds and horn and tally ho,
And the tongue of Bran as clear
As Christmas bells across the snow.
And beside my secret place
Hurries by the fairy fox,
With the moonrise on his face,
Up and down the mossy rocks.
Then the music of a horn
And the flash of scarlet men,
Thick as poppies in the corn
All across the dusky glen.
[...] Read more
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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A Dusk In Nepal (at returning from there)
The sun calls back of its rays,
And ready to go far behind,
Birds and cattle are on their ways,
To reach home before the day turns blind,
A lark comes and claspes its nestling,
With my friends I see at the road,
Rolled down eyes pearls, I kept on smiling,
I miss my mother badly in abroad.
It gets dark, wild, bitterly winds blow,
And this cause the cold to grow,
By and by we make our pace slow,
And into a creeping bus in a row,
My emotions let me on my fancies fly,
All of sudden, I unwell vomit twice,
Once at a man whom to aside I try,
But journey has been certainly nice.
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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Life Brief! Endless Grief!
See my love, you see me!
See my love, you see me!
From the world of stars and galaxies,
See my love, you see me!
The man you left on this earth,
still weeps and roams unwed!
Still weeps and roams unwed!
Where you gave me last farewell,
go oft I see you there.
Tearful face of yours I recall;
call the breeze to cool me the flowers!
Call the breeze to cool me the flowers!
This heart where you ought to reign
has become gloom and dark!
The time when you sang as a lark
comes back in mind to rock!
Comes back in mind to rock!
See my love, you see me!
[...] Read more
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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To E.
I have remembered beauty in the night,
Against black silences I waked to see
A shower of sunlight over Italy
And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
I have remembered music in the dark,
The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach's,
And running water singing on the rocks
When once in English woods I heard a lark.
But all remembered beauty is no more
Than a vague prelude to the thought of you --
You are the rarest soul I ever knew,
Lover of beauty, knightliest and best;
My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore,
And when I think of you, I am at rest.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Love’s Fitfulness
You say that I am fitful. Sweet, 'tis true;
But 'tis that I your fitfulness obey.
If you are April, how can I be May,
Or flaunt bright roses when you wear sad rue?
Shine like the sun, and my sky will be blue;
Sing, and the lark shall envy me my lay:
I do but follow where you point the way,
And what I feel you doing, straight must do.
The wind might just as well reproach the vane,
As you upbraid me for my shiftings, dear:
Blow from the south, and south I shall remain;
If you keep fixed, be sure I shall not veer.
Nay, on your change my changes so depend,
If ends your love, why then my love must end.
poem by Alfred Austin
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