SEE the lark prunes his active wings, Rises to Heaven, and soars, and sings. His morning hymns, his mid-day lays, Are one continued song of praise. He speaks his Maker all he can, And shames the silent tongue of man. When the declining orb of light Reminds him of approaching night, His warbling vespers swell his breast, And as he sings he sinks to rest. Shall birds instructive lessons teach, And we be deaf to what they preach? No, ye dear nestlings of my heart! Go, act the wiser songster's part: Spurn your warm couch at early dawn, And with your God begin the morn. To Him your grateful tribute pay Through every period of the day: To Him your evening songs direct; His eye shall watch, his arm protect. Though darkness reigns, He's with you still, Then sleep, my babes, and fear no ill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEN WHO MARCH AWAY' (SONG OF THE SOLDIERS) by THOMAS HARDY THE SHEPHERDESS by ALICE MEYNELL DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY [OR, DAFFYDOWNDILLY] by MOTHER GOOSE SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 2 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY WHITE SNOW by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE |