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1858–1924

POEM: THE SKYLARK

Edith Nesbit

“It is the skylark come.” For shame! Robert-a-Cockney is thy name: Robert-a-Field would surely know That skylarks, bless them, never go!

Love of my life, bear witness here How we have heard them all the year; How to the skylark's song are set The days we never can forget.

At Rustington, do you remember? We heard the skylarks in December; In January above the snow They sang to us by Hurstmonceux

Once in the keenest airs of March We heard them near the Marble Arch; Their April song thrilled Tonbridge air; May found them singing everywhere;

And oh, in Sheppey, how their tune Rhymed with the bean-flower scent in June. One unforgotten day at Rye They sang a love-song in July;

In August, hard by Lewes town, They sang of joy‘ twixt sky and down; And in September's golden spell We heard them singing on Scaw Fell.

October's leaves were brown and sere, But skylarks sang by Teston Weir; And in November, at Mount's Bay, They sang upon our wedding day!

Mr. - a-Field, go forth, go forth, Go east and west and south and north; You'll always find the furze in flower, Find every hour the lovers’ hour,

And, by my faith in love and rhyme, The skylark singing all the time!

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POEM: THE SKYLARK · Edith Nesbit · Poetry Cove