The Nightingale

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  1. No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
  2. Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
  3. Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.
  4. Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!
  5. You see the glimmer of the stream beneath,
  6. But hear no murmuring: it flows silently,
  7. O'er its soft bed of verdure. All is still,
  8. A balmy night! and though the stars be dim,
  9. Yet let us think upon the vernal showers
  10. That gladden the green earth, and we shall find
  11. A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
  12. And hark! the Nightingale begins its song,
  13. "Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
  14. A melancholy bird? Oh! idle thought!
  15. In Nature there is nothing melancholy.
  16. But some night-wandering man whose heart was pierced
  17. With the remembrance of a grievous wrong,
  18. Or slow distemper, or neglected love,
  19. (And so, poor wretch! fill'd all things with himself,
  20. And made all gentle sounds tell back the tale
  21. Of his own sorrow) he, and such as he,
  22. First named these notes a melancholy strain.
  23. And many a poet echoes the conceit;
  24. Poet who hath been building up the rhyme
  25. When he had better far have stretched his limbs
  26. Beside a brook in mossy forest-dell,
  27. By sun or moon-light, to the influxes
  28. Of shapes and sounds and shifting elements
  29. Surrendering his whole spirit, of his song
  30. And of his fame forgetful! so his fame
  31. Should share in Nature's immortality,
  32. A venerable thing! and so his song
  33. Should make all Nature lovelier, and itself
  34. Be loved like Nature! But 'twill not be so;
  35. And youths and maidens most poetical,
  36. Who lose the deepening twilights of the spring
  37. In ball-rooms and hot theatres, they still
  38. Full of meek sympathy must heave their sighs
  39. O'er Philomela's pity-pleading strains.
  40.  
  41. My Friend, and thou, our Sister! we have learnt
  42. A different lore: we may not thus profane
  43. Nature's sweet voices, always full of love
  44. And joyance! 'Tis the merry Nightingale
  45. That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates
  46. With fast thick warble his delicious notes,
  47. As he were fearful that an April night
  48. Would be too short for him to utter forth
  49. His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul
  50. Of all its music!
  51.  
  52. And I know a grove
  53. Of large extent, hard by a castle huge,
  54. Which the great lord inhabits not; and so
  55. This grove is wild with tangling underwood,
  56. And the trim walks are broken up, and grass,
  57. Thin grass and king-cups grow within the paths.
  58. But never elsewhere in one place I knew
  59. So many nightingales; and far and near,
  60. In wood and thicket, over the wide grove,
  61. They answer and provoke each other's songs,
  62. With skirmish and capricious passagings,
  63. And murmurs musical and swift jug jug,
  64. And one low piping sound more sweet than all--
  65. Stirring the air with such an harmony,
  66. That should you close your eyes, you might almost
  67. Forget it was not day! On moonlight bushes,
  68. Whose dewy leaflets are but half-disclosed,
  69. You may perchance behold them on the twigs,
  70. Their bright, bright eyes, their eyes both bright and full,
  71. Glistening, while many a glow-worm in the shade
  72. Lights up her love-torch.
  73.  
  74. A most gentle Maid,
  75. Who dwelleth in her hospitable home
  76. Hard by the castle, and at latest eve
  77. (Even like a Lady vowed and dedicate
  78. To something more than Nature in the grove)
  79. Glides through the pathways; she knows all their notes,
  80. That gentle Maid! and oft, a moment's space,
  81. What time the moon was lost behind a cloud,
  82. Hath heard a pause of silence; till the moon
  83. Emerging, hath awakened earth and sky
  84. With one sensation, and those wakeful birds
  85. Have all burst forth in choral minstrelsy,
  86. As if some sudden gale had swept at once
  87. A hundred airy harps! And she hath watched
  88. Many a nightingale perch giddily
  89. On blossomy twig still swinging from the breeze,
  90. And to that motion tune his wanton song
  91. Like tipsy joy that reels with tossing head.
  92.  
  93. Farewell, O Warbler! till to-morrow eve,
  94. And you, my friends! farewell, a short farewell!
  95. We have been loitering long and pleasantly,
  96. And now for our dear homes.--That strain again!
  97. Full fain it would delay me! My dear babe,
  98. Who, capable of no articulate sound,
  99. Mars all things with his imitative lisp,
  100. How he would place his hand beside his ear,
  101. His little hand, the small forefinger up,
  102. And bid us listen! And I deem it wise
  103. To make him Nature's play-mate. He knows well
  104. The evening-star; and once, when he awoke
  105. In most distressful mood (some inward pain
  106. Had made up that strange thing, an infant's dream),
  107. I hurried with him to our orchard-plot,
  108. And he beheld the moon, and, hushed at once,
  109. Suspends his sobs, and laughs most silently,
  110. While his fair eyes, that swam with undropped
  111. tears,
  112. Did glitter in the yellow moon-beam! Well!--
  113. It is a father's tale: But if that Heaven
  114. Should give me life, his childhood shall grow up
  115. Familiar with these songs, that with the night
  116. He may associate joy.--Once more, farewell,
  117. Sweet Nightingale! once more, my friends!
  118. farewell.

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