The lark unwinds his spiral speech, A curve of sound, The lyric grass-blades only reach Words made of ground. And in between, bewildered, I Stand by and lean One tilted ear to catch the sky, And one this green. My heart is tiptoe for the song That leaps the fence -- But well I know my feet belong On permanence. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS IMMORTALITY by THOMAS HARDY THE SLAVE MOTHER by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER THE BATTLE OF CHARLESTON HARBOR by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE A TERRIBLE INFANT by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON THE VIRGINIANS OF THE VALLEY by FRANCIS ORRERY TICKNOR OH, TORTURE NOT MY SOUL! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |