HOW many buds in this warm light Have burst out laughing into leaves! And shall a day like this be gone Before I seek the wood that holds The richest music known? Too many times have nightingales Wasted their passion on my sleep, And brought repentance soon; But this one night I'll seek the woods, The Nightingale and Moon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC by JOHN DRYDEN DYING SPEECH OF AN OLD PHILOSOPHER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR CARLYLE AND EMERSON by MONTGOMERY SCHUYLER JOLLY NOSE by WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH A CHILD TO HIS SICK GRANDFATHER by JOANNA BAILLIE FRAGMENT by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS PICTURES ON ENAMEL by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE DEPARTED by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE EPITAPH ON MR. VAUX, THE PHYSICIAN by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |