The pure voice of a lark that seemed to send
Its song from heights beyond all height That bird
Sang out of heaven, “The world will never end,”
Sang from the gates of heaven, “Will never end,”
Sang till it seemed there was no other thing
But bright space and one voice set there to sing.
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It seemed to be the murmur and the voice
Of beings beyond number, each and all
Singing I am. Each of itself made choice