The Lark

Walking up a crest
Without knowing what comes next
I straddle on into the dark
Shuffling my feet for a sight of the lark

Yonder the leaves sway
Making my heart pray
O when will the lark sing
And make me rock and swing

Trampling on the fallen leaves
Sounding like a knight’s greaves
I search for thee lark
With the hope am nearing the mark

Branches like a canopy
I don’t know where to look for ye
Still I know that you are there
Somewhere in the shade.