Rise, oh Lark, on eager wings,
Above the night's dark hollow.
Fly into the edge of Dawn --
I have wings to follow!
Dip into the golden scent
Of cloud's ethereal flower.
I have wings to touch the stars,
To race a comet shower!
Sing, oh Lark, of sky and star
And the wind's soft thunder,
And sing of how my heart shall leap
At seeing morning's wonder!
Edith Grames Schay
(c) July 1937 The Farmer's Wife Magazine
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