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THE NIGHTINGALE THAT WAS DROWNED, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Upon a bough, hung trembling o'er a spring
Last Line: Nymphs, take my life, since you despise my song.'
Subject(s): Birds; Nightingales

UPON a bough, hung trembling o'er a spring,
Sate Philomel, to respite grief, and sing:
Tuning such various notes, there seem'd to nest
A choir of little songsters in her breast,
Whilst Echo at the close of ev'ry strain,
Return'd her music, note for note again.

The jealous bird, who ne'er had rival known,
Not thinking these sweet points were all her own;
So fill'd with emulation was, that she
Express'd her utmost art and harmony;
Till as she eagerly for conquest tried,
Her shadow in the stream below she spied:

Then heard the waters bubbling, but mistook,
And thought the nymphs were laughing in the brook;
She then enrag'd, into the spring did fall,
And in sad accents thus upbraids them all:
'Not Tereus self offer'd so great a wrong,
Nymphs, take my life, since you despise my song.'

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