THE lark above our heads doth know A heaven we see not here below; She sees it, and for joy she sings; Then falls with ineffectual wings. Ah, soaring soul! faint not nor tire! Each heaven attained reveals a higher. Thy thought is of thy failure; we List raptured, and thank God for thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CITIZEN OF THE WORLD by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER COR CORDIUM by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 4 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY THE MAGIC MIRROR by HENRY MILLS ALDEN THE POET'S SOLILOQUY by E. M. AVERILL |