Volume 6 — Matin.
Reading edition
I. Only when mounting sings the lark, Struggling to fields of purer air Silent her music when she turns Back to a world of gloom and care! II. Only when mounting sings my heart, Fluttering on tremulous wing to God! Fainter the music as I fall— Mute, when I reach the lower sod! III. Lark, in my heart this morn astir, Upward to God on eager wing! Seek for one pure, celestial draught, Fresh from th' eternal Music-Spring! Richard Storks Willis.