Poem by Robert Anderson

To the Lark

Sweet is thy carol, soaring Lark!
Rejoicing nature bids thee sing;
Thy eager flight I fondly mark,
Blithe messenger of welcome Spring:
Thou call'st me from yon noisy throng,
Where endless cares disturb the mind,
And list'ning to thy cheerful song,
I shun the temptings of mankind.

Lone monitor! when Sol's bright ray
Illumes the gently sloping hill,
And meditation guides my way,
Along some unfrequented rill;
Thy upward flight points to that Pow'r,
Whose goodness will for ever last:
Then let me wisely spend this hour,
And muse on many idly past. 

1. Lines to a Redbreast
2. Jingle in the Glasses
3. Epitaph on Maria of the Cottage
4. The Happy Family
5. Mad Margery

Joanna Baillie To the Lark ("MOUNT, child of Morning, mount and sing")

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