One sleepless night I heard the lark Chir-chirruping inside my heart; Got up to find her in the dark To capture her and set apart Her stringless resonating harp On which she played a note so sharp; My very soul said: "Hark, oh, hark! What is this iridescent spark
That set my every thought aflame? For in its sound I heard my name! That made my ear and eye so changed That all the world illuminates? It will not let me sleep again Until my every breath is spent!"
I looked and looked and looked in vain But carried with me the refrain So every time I turned around The sound was coming from without; At lenght I closed my tired lids And heard the lark sing from within; And this is how I figured out: I'm not the kindling. I'm the spark!