THE merry merry lark was up and singing, And the hare was out and feeding on the lea; And the merry merry bells below were ringing, When my child's laugh rang through me. Now the hare is snared and dead beside the snow-yard, And the lark beside the dreary winter sea; And the baby in his cradle in the churchyard Sleeps sound till the bell brings me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SANDALPHON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ADVENTURE ON THE WINGS OF MORNING by RACHEL ALBRIGHT SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 7. THEY MEET AGAIN by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS TO HIS GRACE, GEORGE DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND by PHILIP AYRES ASLEEP, ASLEEP; MARTYDOM OF SAINT STEPHEN by LUCY ANN BENNETT |