Down through the thicket, out of the hedges, A ripple of music singeth a tune . . . Like water that falls From mossy ledges With a soft low croon: Soon It will cease! No, it falls but to rise -- but to rise -- but to rise! It is over the thickets, it leaps in the trees, It swims like a star in the purple-black skies! Ah, once again, With its rapture and pain, The nightingale singeth under the moon! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WATERFALL by HENRY VAUGHAN IN NOVEMBER by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: GOING BACK AGAIN by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON SONGS IN ABSENCE: 12 by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH VOICES (1) by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE |