TO A SKYLARK

[…]

 The pale purple even
  Melts around thy flight;
 Like a star of Heaven,
  In the broad day-light
Thou art unseen, — but yet I hear thy shrill delight,
 

 Keen as are the arrows
  Of that silver sphere
 Whose intense lamp narrows
  In the white dawn clear,
Until we hardly see — we feel that it is there.
 

 All the earth and air
  With thy voice is loud,
 As, when night is bare,
  From one lovely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.
 

[…]

 Better than all measures
  Of delightful sound —
 Better than all treasures
  That in books are found —
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
 

 Teach me half the gladness
  That thy brain must know,
 Such harmonious madness
  From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then — as I am listening now.
 

(16-35; 96-105)
                                                            (1820)

---

Página creada y actualizada por grupo "mmm".
Para cualquier cambio, sugerencia,etc. contactar con: fores@uv.es
© a.r.e.a./Dr.Vicente Forés López
Universitat de València Press
última actualización: 17/12/2000