MELODIOUS creature, happy in thy choice! That sitting on a bough Dost sing, 'Dear mate, my dear, come to me now'; And she obeys thy voice. Ah, could my songs such bliss procure! For mine could Cynthia ne'er allure: Nor have I wings like thee to fly, But must neglected lie; I cannot her to pity move, She scorns my songs, and me: While thou rejoicest all the grove (As well thou may'st) with melody, For thou art happy in thy love. No creature e'er could boast a perfect state, Unless to thee it may belong, Since Nature lib'rally supplies All thy infirmities, To thy weak organs gave a pow'rful song; Tho' small in size, thou art in Fortune great, Compar'd to mine, thy happiness is most complete. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY LADY'S TEARS by JOHN DOWLAND THE OLD MAN DREAMS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES SONNET ON FAME (2) by JOHN KEATS ON AN OLD MUFF by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON NOREMBEGA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE CLOAK, THE BOAT, AND THE SHOES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 83. YA MALIK by EDWIN ARNOLD |