SKYLARK-LOFT
What heavy awe, what darkling earth
when lightly aloft the laver-rook rings
        with a trirr, a trirr,
        a chittering trirr:
a quick-mist winging
and tready-feathered wing-mist winging,
        with a trirr:
as steadily the feather-wedged whirrer drives
against the weight of the louring, pillowy light
        with a trirr, a trirr,
        a chittering trirr:
        a trirr, a trirr,
        a chittering trirr,
                with a trirr:
till in the lew-warm light, for height,
I had thought him softly drowned aloft
        but for the trirr, dim trirr,
        dim trirr, dim trirr,
        dim--
--spin-arrowing dive, he drops down soundless,
into grass.

                     (1934-37)