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4SO THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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LARKS
A
LL day in exquisite air The song clomb an invisible stair, Flight on flight, story on story, Into the dazzling glory.
There was no bird, only a singing, Up in the glory, climbing and ringing, Like a small golden cloud at even, Trembling 'twixt earth and heaven.
I saw no staircase winding, winding, Up in the dazzle, sapphire and blinding, Yet round by round, in exquisite air, The song went up the stair. |
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OH, GREEN AND FRESH
O
H, green and fresh your English sod With daisies sprinkled over j But greener far were the fields I trod, And the honeyed Irish clover.
Oh, well your skylark cleaves the blue
To bid the sun good-morrow ; He has not the bonny song I knew
High over an Irish furrow.
And often, often, I'm longing still,
This gay and golden weather, For my father's face by an Irish hill
And he and I together. |
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