SONG.
ByL. G. MOBERLY.
Ifonly I might hear the larks againUpon the downs in spring,And linger in the copses, as of yore,To hear the thrushes sing,If I might see again the wide clear skyThat stoops to meet the hills,And catch the golden gleam of sun that liesUpon the daffodils,And watch, just once again, the shadows passAcross the uplands sweet,And feel the springy sweetness of the grassGrowing beneath my feet;I think that I could learn at last to bearMy life in this great town;If I might feel Spring’s breath again—and hearThe larks—upon the down!
Ifonly I might hear the larks againUpon the downs in spring,And linger in the copses, as of yore,To hear the thrushes sing,If I might see again the wide clear skyThat stoops to meet the hills,And catch the golden gleam of sun that liesUpon the daffodils,And watch, just once again, the shadows passAcross the uplands sweet,And feel the springy sweetness of the grassGrowing beneath my feet;I think that I could learn at last to bearMy life in this great town;If I might feel Spring’s breath again—and hearThe larks—upon the down!
Ifonly I might hear the larks againUpon the downs in spring,And linger in the copses, as of yore,To hear the thrushes sing,
Ifonly I might hear the larks again
Upon the downs in spring,
And linger in the copses, as of yore,
To hear the thrushes sing,
If I might see again the wide clear skyThat stoops to meet the hills,And catch the golden gleam of sun that liesUpon the daffodils,
If I might see again the wide clear sky
That stoops to meet the hills,
And catch the golden gleam of sun that lies
Upon the daffodils,
And watch, just once again, the shadows passAcross the uplands sweet,And feel the springy sweetness of the grassGrowing beneath my feet;
And watch, just once again, the shadows pass
Across the uplands sweet,
And feel the springy sweetness of the grass
Growing beneath my feet;
I think that I could learn at last to bearMy life in this great town;If I might feel Spring’s breath again—and hearThe larks—upon the down!
I think that I could learn at last to bear
My life in this great town;
If I might feel Spring’s breath again—and hear
The larks—upon the down!