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Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

(470) Page 452 - Hark, the lark is up

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(470) Page 452 - Hark, the lark is up
452
But see, the waves are rippling ;
See, see they creep along !
The distant breeze is breathing
Its hollow ocean-song.
Oh ! day may fade aronnd us,
We need its beams no more ;
A dearer light is waiting
To welcome us on shore.
HARK, THE LARK IS UP.
Hark ! the lark is up,
The first sweet bird of Spring,
High, and yet more high still.
And gaily carolling.
Earth hath not yet one blossom,
By fountain, bower, or brake ;
Yet loud, more loud, he warbles,
As if to bid them wake.
Thus in fancy bright,
He sees each opening flower.
And by anticipation
Lives twice each sunny hour.

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