Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert - That from Heaven or near itor near it Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. The pale purple even Melts around thy flight; Like a star of Heaven, In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight - Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear, Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there. All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed. What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody: - Like a Poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: Like a high-born maiden In a palace-tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aërial hue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view: Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingèd thieves: Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers - All that ever was Joyous and clear and fresh - thy music doth surpass. Teach us, Sprite or Bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus hymeneal, Or triumphal chant, Matched with thine would be all but an empty vaunt - A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be: Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. Yet, if we could scorn Hate and pride and fear, If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know; Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
R. Still sets stanzas 1, 8, 12-13
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 - 1822), "Ode to a Skylark" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Thomas Anderton (1836 - 1903), "The skylark", published 1871 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Margery Anthea Baird , "To a skylark", 1953-4 [ baritone, 4-part chorus, and small orchestra ] [sung text not yet checked]
- by Siegfried Benkman , "To a skylark", published 1937 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Frederic Field Bullard (1864 - 1904), "To a skylark", op. 17 no. 1, published 1894, from Four Poems by Shelley Set to Lyric Music, no. 1 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Elizabeth Covell , "To a skylark", 1933 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Ellen Dickson (1819 - 1878), as Dolores, "The Skylark", published 1861 [ voice and piano ], London [sung text not yet checked]
- by Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir (1852 - 1924), "Ode to the Skylark", op. 14 (Six Songs) no. 2, published 1882 [ voice and piano ] [sung text not yet checked]
- by Robert Still (1910 - 1971), "Ode to a Skylark", stanzas 1,8,12-13 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Jaroslav Vrchlický) , "Skřivánkovi", Prague, J. Otto, first published 1901
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Giacomo Zanella) , "Ad una allodola", written 1868
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Miguel Antonio Caro) , "La alondra", appears in Traducciones poéticas, Bogotá, Librería Americana, calle XIV, n. 77, 79, first published 1889
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2004-05-02
Line count: 105
Word count: 577
¡Salve tú, que del suelo Gallarda te desvías, Más que ave, hija del cielo, Y desde lo alto envías Raudal de no estudiadas profusas melodías! Rival de nubes leves Vuelas á etéreas salas, Al hondo azul te atreves, Y tu cántico exhalas En el inmenso espacio sin aquietar las alas. Radioso cortinaje Decora el sol poniente, Y el dorado celaje Hiendes en giro ardiente, ¡Oh tú, encarnado impulso de gozo indeticiente! Más y más palidece La púrpura, y tu vuelo Fugaz se desvanece Bajo el tendido velo; Oigo tu voz vibrante, y en vano verte anhelo: Cual cada aguda flecha De esa esfera argentada Cuyo foco se estrecha En la luz dilatada, Donde algo el alma siente, y el ojo no ve nada. Cielos y tierra llena Tu alborozado canto, Como luna serena Rasga el aéreo manto, Y en luz el orbe envuelve de misterioso encanto. Nada hay que emule, nada, Tus potencias ignotas: No la nube irisada Vertió tan puras gotas Cual de tu pico arpado caen límpidas notas. Así, ardiendo en la santa Lumbre del pensamiento, El poeta himnos canta, Y á nuevo sentimiento De asombro ó de esperanzas inclina al orbe atento. Así en feudal palacio Sola una noble dama, Mudo el sereno espacio, Halaga oculta llama Con música doliente que en torno se derrama. Luciérnaga de oro Así en la húmeda hierba De luz vierte un tesoro, Y del que audaz la observa Entre la grama y flores perdida se preserva. Así la abierta rosa Que el follaje guarnece, Su fragancia copiosa Al sutil viento ofrece, Que cargadas las alas, desmaya y se adormece. Són de lluvia en verano Que alegra la natura, Tallo que se irgue ufano; En la tierra, en la altura, Cuanto hay gozoso y bello, se humilla á tu dulzura. Díme, espíritu ó ave, ¿Qué piensas de contino? No hay cítara suave Que amor cantando ó vino, Cual tú arrobarnos sepa en éxtasis divino. El canto de himeneo, El himno de victoria, Á par de tu gorjeo Magia son ilusoria, Libación breve y vana de júbilo ó de gloria. ¿Qué objetos ignorados Cantando vas? ¿Qué flores, Fuentes, grutas, collados. Los tuyos son? ¿Qué amores Sólo de ti sabidos? ¿Qué ausencia de dolores? Desecha tu alegría Cobardes languideces, Negra melancolía; Nunca tú desfalleces; Amas, y no conoces de amor vulgar las heces. Velando ó adormido, Muy más que humanas gentes De la Muerte y Olvido Hondos misterios sientes; Y allá tus cantos ruedan en ondas transparentes. Hacia atrás y adelante, Tras algo que no existe, Mira el hombre anhelante; ¿Qué sonreír no es triste? ¿A cuál endecha dulce vago pesar no asiste? Si fuéramos criaturas Al dolor y al espanto Ajenas, almas duras Incapaces de llanto, ¿Cómo tu voz celeste nos deleitara tanto? Más que humana elocuencia Que en ecos se dilata. Más que toda la ciencia Que en libros se recata, ¡Desdeñador del mundo! tu arte al poeta es grata. ¡Oh, si parte siquiera De ese inexhausto río De mis labios fluyera. Cual mudo me extasío Absorto el universo oyera el canto mío!
Confirmed with Traducciones poéticas por D. Miguel Antonio Caro, Bogota, Librería Americana, calle XIV, n. 77, 79, 1889, pages 277-281.
Authorship:
- by Miguel Antonio Caro (1845 - 1909), "La alondra", appears in Traducciones poéticas, Bogotá, Librería Americana, calle XIV, n. 77, 79, first published 1889 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Based on:
- a text in English by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 - 1822), "Ode to a Skylark"
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- [ None yet in the database ]
Researcher for this page: Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2019-08-09
Line count: 105
Word count: 511