Storm's Journal

--| The Lark's Song |--- 

Tricksy says, 'A song I learned the other day about a lark and his wife': 

Good-morrow, my lord! In the sky alone,
sang the lark, as the sun ascended his throne.
Shine on me, my lord, I only am come,
of all your servants, to welcome you home.
I have flown a whole hour, right up, I swear,
to catch the first shine of your golden hair!

Must I thank you, then, said the king, sir lark,
for flying so high, and hating the dark?
You ask a full cup for half a thirst;
half is love of me, and half full of love to be first.
There's many a bird that makes no haste, 
but waits till I come. That’s as much to my taste.

And the king hid his head in a turban of cloud,
and the lark stopped singing, quite vexed and cowed.
But he flew up higher, and thought, ‘anon,
the wrath of the king will be over and gone;
and his crown, shining out of its cloudy fold,
will change my brown feathers to a glory of gold.’

So he flew, with the strength of a lark he flew.
But as he rose the cloud rose too;
and not a gleam of the golden hair
came through the depth of the misty air;
till, weary with flying, with sighing sore,
the strong sun-seeker could do no more.

His wings had had no chrism of gold,
and his feathers felt withered and worn and old;
so he quivered and sank, and dropped like a stone.
And there on his nest, where he left her, alone,
sat his little wife on her little eggs,
keeping them warm with wings and legs.

Did I say alone? Ah, no such thing! 
Full in her face was the king.
Welcome, sir lark! You look tired, said he.
Up is not always the best way to me.
While you have been singing high and away,
I've been shining to your little wife all day.

He had set his crown all about the nest,
and out of the midst shone her little brown breast;
and so gracious was she in russet gold,
that for wonder and awe sir lark grew cold.
He popped his head under her wing, and lay
as still as a stone, till the king was away.

(exerpted from The Giant's Heart, George MacDonald, 
 The Light Princess and other short stories, 1980.) 

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- C.S. Lewis had an Island
- Nature in her own Right
- Lewis and Tolkien on Myths

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