To the skylark/ W. Wordsworth

[시너먼]

Ethereal minsrel! Pilgrim of the sky!
Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
Or while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, the music still!

To the last point of vision, and beyond,
Mount, darling warbler! -that love - prompt strain
'ㅡTwixt thee and thine a never ㅡ failing bond.
Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:
Yet mightiest thou seem, proud privilege to sing
All independent of the leafy spring

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;
A privacy of glorious light is thine,
Where thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with instinct more divine;
Type of the wise, who soar, but never roamㅡ
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home.