University of Virginia Library

ADDRESS to the NIGHTINGALE.

A Sonnet.

Hush'd be the blast which howls in sullen roar,
Still be yon Bell, which casts its tinkling round,
Lull'd be the wave which rolls against the shore,
“While eagerly I catch the thrilling sound.”

169

Oft has sad sorrow hail'd thee bird of night,
And listen'd to thy solitary song,
Sigh'd to the zephyr's swift and fearful flight,
Which woeful murmur'd as it mov'd along.
What fascinating charms are in thy strain?
That sweetly melts the bosom into peace,
In sweet composure lulls the lover's pain,
With soothing mandates bids affliction cease.
But now no lover seeks thee in the grove,
No mourner smitten by a captious lass,
Not yet this bosom has been prey to love,
And still may Cupid long unheedful pass.
Strike lonely bird thy melancholy lays,
'Tis MELANCHOLY HERE triumphant reigns;
The moon pale wanders o'er her dreary ways.
Wrapt into silence tumult shuns the plains,
Fann'd by the gale thy trilling sorrows rise,
Soft plaintive echo leaves her vacant cave,
The breeze more sadly thro' the willow sighs,
Which shades some stranger's solitary grave.
My musing bosom the kind influence feels,
Still the fond song the sweetest bard extends,

170

The quiv'ring lay yet on my bosom steals
From clouds ambrosial beauteous PEACE descends.