THE SONG OF THE LARK.
ADA M. GRIGGS.
The peasant girl, her feet all bare,
With her rustic grace, has a noble air.
She's queen of the stubble-field and she,
In mind, is free as the lark is free.
Her thought, above all meaner things,
Is soaring with the lark that sings.
No hampered child of the city streets,
Who bows his head whomsoe'er he meets,