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One have I marked, the happiest guest
In all this covert of the blest:
Hail to Thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
While birds, and butterflies, and flowers,
A Life, a Presence like the Air,
Too blest with any one to pair;
Upon yon tuft of hazel trees,
There! where the flutter of his wings
Shadows and sunny glimmerings,
My dazzled sight the Bird deceives,
As if by that exulting strain
He mocked and treated with disdain
TO A SKY-LARK.
Up with me! up with me into the clouds!
Up with me, up with me into the clouds!
With clouds and sky about thee ringing,
That spot which seems so to thy mind!
I have walked through wildernesses dreary
Had I now the wings of a Faery,
Up to thee would I fly.
There is madness about thee, and joy divine
In that song of thine;
Lift me, guide me high and high
To thy banqueting-place in the sky.
Joyous as morning,
Thou art laughing and scorning;
Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest,
With a soul as strong as a mountain river
Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven,
As full of gladness and as free of heaven,
I, with my fate contented, will plod on,
And hope for higher raptures, when Life's day is done.
TO THE SMALL CELANDINE.*
PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies,
They will have a place in story:
'Tis the little Celandine.
Eyes of some men travel far
For the finding of a star;
Up and down the heavens they go,
* Common Pilewort.
Modest, yet withal an Elf
I have seen thee, high and low,
Ere a leaf is on a bush,
Telling tales about the sun,
When we've little warmth, or none.
Poets, vain men in their mood!
Travel with the multitude:
Never heed them; I aver
That they all are wanton wooers;
But the thrifty cottager,
Who stirs little out of doors,