The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 41, Page 429
IV.
On Watching the Flight of a Skylark.
Upward and upward still! In pearly light
The clouds are steep'd; the vernal spirit sighs
With bliss in every wind; and crystal skies
Woo thee, O Bird! to thy celestial height.
Bird, piercing heaven with music, thy free flight
Hath meaning for all bosoms,—most of all
For those wherein the rapture and the might
Of Poesy lie deep, and strive and burn
For their high place. Oh, heirs of Genius! learn
From the sky's bird your way!—no joy may fill
Your hearts, no gift of holy strength be won
To bless your songs, ye Children of the Sun,
Save by the unswerving flight—upward and upward still!
