Well I remember how the nightingale, That linger'd in the genial South so long, Made his sweet trespass, broke his ancient pale, And brought into the North his wondrous song. But, when I thought to hear his first sweet bar, He sang a mile away: I could not seek His chosen haunt, for I was faint and weak: Alas! I cried, so near and yet so far: Kind nature gathered all the sounds I love About my window; lowings of the kine, The thrush, the linnet, and the cooing dove; But out, alas! how should I not repine, When, scarce a mile beyond my garden grove, The night-bird warbled for all ears but mine? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AND SO, I THINK DIOGENES by AMY LOWELL IN A CUBAN GARDEN by SARA TEASDALE HE GOADS HIMSELF by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE VOYAGE by CAROLINE ATHERTON BRIGGS MASON HALSTED STREET CAR by CARL SANDBURG DRUM TAPS TO HEAVEN by JAMES CHURCH ALVORD A CHARACTER OF JOHN MORT by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE WEDDING DAY; OR, THE BUCCANEER'S CURSE; A FAMILY LEGEND by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |