Earth's Voices Transcripts from Nature, Sospitra, and Other Poems. By William Sharp |
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 | Earth's Voices |  |
XIII. SONG OF THE NIGHTINGALE.
Keen, through supremest music,
My song is fill'd with pain:
Hark! 'tis the same sad strain
That with pathetic cadence thrilled
The Thracian plain,
When after Procne's flight I sang alone,
And thro' my deathless music sent a dying moan.
My song is fill'd with pain:
Hark! 'tis the same sad strain
That with pathetic cadence thrilled
The Thracian plain,
When after Procne's flight I sang alone,
And thro' my deathless music sent a dying moan.
What moonlit glades, what seas
Foam-edged have I not known!
Through ages hath not flown
Mine ancient song with gather'd music sweet—
By fanes overthrown,
By cities known of old and classic woods,
And, strangely sad, in deep-leaved northern solitudes?
Foam-edged have I not known!
Through ages hath not flown
Mine ancient song with gather'd music sweet—
By fanes overthrown,
By cities known of old and classic woods,
And, strangely sad, in deep-leaved northern solitudes?
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Nightly my song swells forth,
When the grey stock-dove broods
And whirling bat eludes
The forest boughs, and rings and pants and thrills
In passionate interludes—
Too sweet, too sad, O sorrow and old-time pain,
The love, the glory I see, that will not come again.
When the grey stock-dove broods
And whirling bat eludes
The forest boughs, and rings and pants and thrills
In passionate interludes—
Too sweet, too sad, O sorrow and old-time pain,
The love, the glory I see, that will not come again.
| Earth's Voices | |