Laura Sophia Temple

Lines Written on Seeing Lark

ascending to a great height one fine Morning in Summer.

Bird of Morn! now blithe ascending,
With the breeze thy wild-note blending;
Bird! I long with thee to wander,
High in air to gaze, and ponder.

Oh! how sweet the blue sky roving,
All the charms of freedom proving!
Oh! how sweet to break day's slumbers
With my gay rejoicing numbers!

Flutt'ring, wheeling, wildly bounding,
O'er the hills my song resounding,
All the ties of earth I'd sever
Wide with thee to roam for ever.

But should Mem'ry, faithless rover,
O'er the low world sometimes hover,
Should I catch her deeply musing
All the chequer'd past perusing,

She should cease her idle gazing;
Ev'ry thought of life erasing,
She should Hope's light pinion borrow,
And forsake a scene of sorrow.

Bird of Morn! now blithe ascending,
With the breeze thy wild note blending;
Bird! I long with thee to wander,
High in air to gaze and ponder.