Presenting a Lark


Go tuneful bird, forbear to soar,
And the bright sun admire no more;
Go bask in Serenissa 's eyes,
And turn a bird of paradise.


In those fair beams thy wings display,
Take shorter journies to the day,
And at an humbler pitch prefer
Thy musick to an angel's ear.


Nor, tho' her slave, thy lot deplore;
The god of love himself's no more:
Ev'n him to constancy she brings,
And clips, like thine, his wav'ring wings.


She gains from us, as now from thee,
Our songs by our captivity;
But happier you attention gain,
While wretched lovers sing in vain.
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