Poems ✍️
  05.02.2026
  21

Author: Francis William Bourdillon

A Violinist

THE LARK above our heads doth know
A heaven we see not here below;
She sees it, and for joy she sings;
Then falls with ineffectual wings.

Ah, soaring soul! faint not nor tire!
Each heaven attained reveals a higher.
Thy thought is of thy failure; we
List raptured, and thank God for thee.


  Nature joy longing transcendence

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