Francis William Bourdillon (22 March 1852 – 13 January 1921 / Runcorn, Cheshire)
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.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Sonnet II by Francis William Bourdillon )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley