Classic Poem

When eyes that cast about the heights of heaven
To canvass the retirement of the lark
(Because the music from his bill forth-driven
So takes the sister sense) can find no mark,
But many a silver visionary spark
Springs in the floating air and the skies swim, —
Then often the ears in a new fashion hark,
Beside them, about the hedges, hearing him:
At last the bird is found a flickering shape and slim.

At once the senses give the music back,
The proper sweet re-attributing above.
That sweetness re-attributing above. —