 | Malvern Hills |  |
SONNET I. TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
HARK! in the vale I hear thy evening song,Sweet Nightingale! it soothes my pensive soul.
Dost thou from day's gay flutterers retire,
As I, from tumult of the busy world,
To pour thy sad note on the evening gale?
Night, and this still serene, full well accord
With feelings such as ours. It is a calm
Healthful and sweet to nature, when the soul
Plumes all her powers, and imps her drooping wing
For other climes. Yes, songstress of the shade!
We both alike are here, brief sojourners,
Waiting the season of our happier change.
Yet from the lone spray cheer the vale awhile
And, listening, I will learn content from thee.
| Malvern Hills | |