 | Orchard Songs |  |
52
THE NIGHTINGALE
Whereas the blackbird and the thrush
Are fondly English in their song,
And finely pipe great island airs
Where bloomy orchards throng,
Are fondly English in their song,
And finely pipe great island airs
Where bloomy orchards throng,
The nightingale has all the East
Within his dear tumultuous breast;
World-passions and the strong refrains
That ring in wild unrest.
Within his dear tumultuous breast;
World-passions and the strong refrains
That ring in wild unrest.
Circassian music he can sing,
Rough mountain loves, and stories meek
That in the vineyard valley run
From traitor cheek to cheek.
Rough mountain loves, and stories meek
That in the vineyard valley run
From traitor cheek to cheek.
And all the secrets of desire,
By right of lyric ancestry,
From out a midnight hawthorn bush
He now reveals to me.
By right of lyric ancestry,
From out a midnight hawthorn bush
He now reveals to me.
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