How sweet the refrain,
O Lark, of thy strain,
How it floats from the height thou hast won!
I rejoice, I am free,
I am singing with thee,
We ascend through the clouds to the sun.

O Lark, thou descendest,
Thy carol thou endest,
Thou sink'st to yon meadow so fair;
Then in silence I'm bound,
I descend to the ground,
And Oh! to what gloom and despair!