WILD LIFE OF ORCHARD AND FIELD 



from the brightnCvSS of God's heaven into the shad- 

 ow of men's hearts, I thought there were few things 

 in fact or story that could be more subHme. And 

 yet they tell me that it is in the early morning that 

 this, like other birds, tilts his noblest and sweetest 

 lay — this "Lark that at heaven's gate sings I" 



Up, up, from fields aromatic; 



Up, up, chanting music chromatic. 



Wings the skylark, on spiral ecstatic, 



Thinking only of singing, 



Pure melody ringing. 



Rapture down flinging. 



Careless who hears. 



High, high, where the morning is newest; 

 High, high, where the deep sky is bluest. 

 Mounts the skylark, in worship the truest. 



Orisons making, 



Paradise waking, 



Earth's homage taking 



To heaven's great throne. 



Clear, clear, is the air where the chorister floats; 

 Clear, clear, sparkle skyward his jubilant notes. 

 Responding to matins from angehc throats, — 



Seraph choirs singing, 



Golden harps stringing. 



Incense far swinging. 



To swell the lark's praise. 



