Of the Larke Cumb

(etymology of a surname: Larcombe) somewhere in the deepest dark of Somerset, was a secret cumb, I know of not yet where ancients did note that many a Larke would wing, for food, to brood, and sing in those times a cumb was understated with trees aplenty in it's forest, where insects unabated, invite the Larke fated to dance with them as their guest. as such, much gratiated, the Larke engages in a courtship thrill, throwing it's voice to dating, in hope of mating, and is satiated by the success of its trill. then men came to this place, farming and deforesting, such that the Larke could not sing, leaving only space and doom, and yet men called themselves "of the Larke Cumb" 'tis still a mystery, where this might be, twixt tarmac, concrete, or brick maybe, but it sealed the Larke' s fate, closing it's garden gate, as such, was a sad sick twist really