None but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings.
The birds they sangat the break of day.Start again!!I heard them say
Why do birds sing in the morning? It's the triumphant shout: 'We got through another night!'
I love the idea of waking up to a song. It could be any song.
To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise.
There is something about the melody of 'Thunder Road' that just suggests 'new day.' It suggests morning; it suggests something opening up.
And now the herald lark Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry The morn's approach, and greet her with his song.
The bisy larke, messager of day.
What would dawn have been like, had you awakened? It would have sung through your bones. All I can do this morning is let it sing through mine.
The alarm on my wife's phone is 'Signed, Sealed, Delivered,' so that's a great way to wake up.
Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear, Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.
It's what I'll be singing in the morning. It won't be God Save the Ruddy King or All Things bleeding Bright and Beautiful. It'll be Orange and Lemons for Big Joe, for all of us.
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies.
