THE LARK OVER THE BATTLEFIELD.
Sing, happy lark ! mount, mount, and sing, Till lost amid yon dazzling sky Thou can'sfc not see thy lowly nest Where all thy callow darlings lig. Oh. sing thy sonpr, thy happy song. To soothe the dying warrior's pain And chase the scenes of blood and strife Like ghastly phantoms f 10m his brain ! Ah ! now he sees his vine clad cot And pretty porch with roses hung, Where, sitting at her spinning wheel. His wife her homely ditties sung. He hears her voice come softly down. Blended with thine, sweet Bird of Spring, To hail him to that Land of Love Where war's dread blast shall never ring. Sing, happy bird ! mount, mount, and sing, Till, lost amid the realms of day, Freed from its bloody prison bond 3, A soul beside thee wings away 1 June 1898. — H. J. B.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW18980609.2.189
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2310, 9 June 1898, Page 41
Word Count
147THE LARK OVER THE BATTLEFIELD. Otago Witness, Issue 2310, 9 June 1898, Page 41
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