THE SKYLARK.
FROM “THE FARMER’S BOY.”
When music waking, speaks the skylark nigh,
Just starting from the corn, he cheerly sings,
And trusts with conscious pride his downy wings;
Still louder breathes, and in the face of day
Mounts up, and calls on Giles to mark his way.
Close to his eyes his hat he instant bends,
And forms a friendly telescope, that lends
Just aid enough to dull the glaring light,
And place the wandering bird before his sight,
That oft beneath a light cloud sweeps along,
Lost for a while, yet pours the varied song.
The eye still follows, and the cloud moves by;
Again he stretches up the clear blue sky.
His form, his motion, undistinguish’d quite,
Save when he wheels direct from shade to light;
E’en then the songster a mere speck become,
Gliding like fancy’s bubbles in a dream,
The gazer sees * * * *
Robert Bloomfield, 1766–1823.