Is it that small black star,
  Twinkling in broad daylight,
Upon the bosom of
  Yon cloud so white -
Is it that small black thing
Makes earth and all Heaven ring!

Sing, you black star; and soar
  Until, alas! too soon
You fall to earth in one
  Long singing swoon;
But you will rise again
To heaven, from this green plain.

Sing, sing, sweet star; though black,
  Your company's more bright
Than any star that shines
  With a white light;
Sing, Skylark, sing; and give
To me thy joy to live.