The lark

A lull in the racket and brattle,

And a lark soars into the light

And its song seems the voice of the light

Quelling the voices of night

And the shattering fury of battle.

But again the fury of battle

Breaks out, and he drops from the height

Dead as a stone from the height

Drops dead, and the voice of the light

Is drowned in the shattering brattle.