Francis William Bourdillon
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.
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Comments about this poem (A Violinist by Francis William Bourdillon )
(13-7-31 (see reverse))
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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