A mystic word to get through. Yet we boast.
Don't we stoop when it pricks? Powerful the word
to make restless, yet there it's unconcerned.
To me? why? She as a bait, continues
...
Split the Lark—and you'll find the Music—
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled—
Scantilly dealt to the Summer Morning
Saved for your Ear when Lutes be old.