Poems (Tynan)/The Lark in Love
THE LARK IN LOVE
The lark that 's climbing stair on stair His ladder of light that swings in air Hath a new note for every rung: The lark 's in love and young.
But soon the clouds allure no more, No more the silver-damasked floor; In spirals was his outward track, But headlong comes he back.
He falls, shot through the burning heart, Yea, through the heart by Love's own dart Too well the cunning archer knew The arrow he sent was true.
But, lark, what wisdom dost thou prove Whose wings, still tethered by thy love, Carry thy song to Paradise: Yet sweeter are her eyes.
That was her praise, thy song that poured, And his of wedded lovers, the lord. Io Hymen! Thou happy boy, Drunken with love and joy.
Io Hymen! O, speckled breast, Minstrel of thine own wedding-feast, Lover and bridegroom, singing still How Love shall have his will!