Quotes about lark, page 4
False Poets And True (To Wordsworth)
Look how the lark soars upward and is gone,
Turning a spirit as he nears the sky!
His voice is heard, but body there is none
To fix the vague excursions of the eye.
So, poets' songs are with us, tho' they die
Obscured, and hid by death's oblivious shroud,
And Earth inherits the rich melody
Like raining music from the morning cloud.
Yet, few there be who pipe so sweet and loud
Their voices reach us through the lapse of space:
The noisy day is deafen'd by a crowd
Of undistinguished birds, a twittering race;
But only lark and nightingale forlorn
Fill up the silences of night and morn.
poem by Thomas Hood
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Butterfly and the Lark
The Butterfly and the Lark (Shakespearan Sonnet)
Much like a painted picture taken flight,
With wings wearing yellows, pinks and blues,
A butterfly on Flora did alight,
His thirst to satiate with nect'rous juice.
Admiring him, upon a nearby tree,
Behind the foliage-screen a lark did hide.
The former froze with fear when, suddenly,
The ominous bird with oggling eyes he spied.
'Too small a prey I am; do pity me'
He begged. Then came a song-like sweet reply:
'Feast enough for me has been your beauty;
I've had my fill; for food no need have I.
But, whilst I sing, will you not display
Your glorious hues in all their bright array?
poem by Dr. Tulsi Hanumanthu
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies
the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.
The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun,
Closing his benediction,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night-
Night with her train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.
So be my passing!
My task accomplish'd and the long day done,
[...] Read more
poem by William Ernest Henley
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Gipsy Love
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
And it's O to be off and away from the town
With a gipsy for my dear!
We'd make our bed in the bracken
With the lark for a chambermaid;
The lark would sing us awake in the morning,
Singing above our head.
We'd drink the sunlight all day long
With never a house to bind us;
And we'd only flout in a merry song
The world we left behind us.
We would be free as birds are free
The livelong day, the livelong day;
And we would lie in the sunny bracken
With none to say us nay.
[...] Read more
poem by Arthur Symons
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
David Ap Gwillam At The Mass Of The Birds
THE Thrush, the Lark, and, chief, the Nightingale,
With one small bird whose name I do not ken,
Offered a Mass; the little bird was clerk,
At intervals he struck his silver bell.
The stars above that were but whitened then
The candles were; the altar was a stone;
Myself was there, with meet observances
Hearing the Mass the birds said in the dell.
It was the Lark who sang in dark's decrease
Kyrie Eleison; then the Nightingale
The Consecration chanted solemnly.
(The silver bell was rung for him in chief.)
And then the Thrush, the dweller in the vale,
Orate Fratres sang how near, how clear!
The Thrush it was who, as the sun appeared,
Held up the Monstrance, a dew-circled leaf!
poem by Padraic Colum
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Poetry And Flowers
Lark and rose go mad, even with winter
coming on, the garden beneath the verandah blooms,
the park is dense with sun and soccer balls.
By lark I mean generic bird, God knows
the names for all these things with wings. Ditto
the rose: the garden drooling colour and bloom.
Lavender I recognise, and jasmine climbing
the concrete wall, and a real rose in the corner,
red as blood. I meant to say: birds and flowers
go ballistic, even with winter coming on.
Carrying on their own life. The earth drowns
in the blooming. Even when there is no wind there is
the solar wind, whipping our bodies from the depths of space.
Ferocities of trees bent double. Playing soccer,
nobody notices this. The far park flutters in mirage.
The jasmine is awash with butterflies.
poem by Luke Davies
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Song (Untitled #13)
Under boughs of breathing May,
In the mild spring-time I lay,
Lonely, for I had no love;
And the sweet birds all sang for pity,
Cuckoo, lark, and dove.
Tell me, cuckoo, then I cried,
Dare I woo and wed a bride?
I, like thee, have no home-nest;
And the twin notes thus tuned their ditty, -
'Love can answer best.'
Nor, warm dove with tender coo,
Have I thy soft voice to woo,
Even were a damsel by;
And the deep woodland crooned its ditty, -
'Love her first and try.'
Nor have I, wild lark, thy wing,
That from bluest heaven can bring
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Song of the Lark (Pantoum)
Alone, alone, I listened to a song,
The lovely, floating warble of a lark.
I heard the notes come drifting, clear and strong,
Until the daylight faded into dark.
The lovely, floating warble of a lark-
Its melody caressed my troubled soul
Until the daylight faded into dark
And velvet night concealed the gentle knoll.
Its melody caressed my troubled soul
While yet I lingered, charmed by peace and grace,
And velvet night concealed the gentle knoll
Before I left that sweet, enchanted place.
While yet I lingered, charmed by peace and grace,
I memorized each shimmering, silvery tone,
Before I left that sweet, enchanted place-
Then I was once again alone, alone.
[...] Read more
poem by Yen Cress
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
There Isn't Any Doggerel There
There isn't any doggerel there this morning
The inspiration well in me is dry
I hear the sound of footsteps on the sidewalk
And silver gulls along the foreshore cry.
And on the silky oaks house sparrows chirping
For house sparrows don't have a song to sing
And magpie lark the black and white bird whistling
His pee wee notes have a familiar ring.
And through it all the noise of passing traffic
And gas and smog pollute suburban skies
And Humankind I feel is the big loser
Where voice of Nature compete with man created noise.
Of any inspiration i feel empty
I feel burnt out from scribbling doggerel
The poets are gone to join the poets of heaven
And i am bound for the poetasters hell.
[...] Read more
poem by Francis Duggan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Kissing time
'T is when the lark goes soaring
And the bee is at the bud,
When lightly dancing zephyrs
Sing over field and flood;
When all sweet things in nature
Seem joyfully achime -
'T is then I wake my darling,
For it is kissing time!
Go, pretty lark, a-soaring,
And suck your sweets, 0 bee;
Sing, 0 ye winds of summer,
Your songs to mine and me;
For with your song and rapture
Cometh the moment when
It's half-past kissing time
And time to kiss again!
So - so the days go fleeting
Like golden fancies free,
[...] Read more
poem by Eugene Field
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!