Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TEMA CON VARIAZONI: PRELUDE, by JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: I went a roaming through the woods alone Last Line: And heard the nightingale that made her moan. Variant Title(s): The Nightingale Subject(s): Birds; Nightingales | ||||||||
I WENT a roaming through the woods alone, And heard the nightingale that made her moan. Hard task it were to tell how dewy-still Were flowers and ferns and foliage in the rays Of Hesper, white amid the daffodil Of twilight fleck'd with faintest chrysoprase; And all the while, embower'd in leafy bays, The bird prolong'd her sharp soul-thrilling tone. I went a roaming through the woods alone, And heard the nightingale that made her moan. But as I stood and listened, on the air Arose another voice more clear and keen, That startled silence with a sweet despair, And still'd the bird beneath her leafy screen: The star of Love, those lattice-boughs between, Grew large and lean'd to listen from his zone. I went a roaming through the woods alone, And heard the nightingale that made her moan. The voice, methought, was neither man's nor boy's, Nor bird's nor woman's, but all these in one: In Paradise perchance such perfect noise Resounds from angel choirs in unison, Chanting with cherubim their antiphon To Christ and Mary on the sapphire throne. I went a roaming through the woods alone, And heard the nightingale that made her moan. Then down the forest aisles there came a boy, Unearthly pale, with passion in his eyes; Who sang a song whereof the sound was joy, But all the burden was of love that dies And death that lives -- a song of sobs and sighs, A wild swan's note of Death and Love in one. I went a roaming through the woods alone, And heard the nightingale that made her moan. Love burn'd within his luminous eyes, and Death Had made his fluting voice so keen and high, The wild wood trembled as he pass'd beneath, With throbbing throat singing, Love-led, to die: Then all was hush'd, till in the thicket nigh The bird resum'd her sharp soul-thrilling tone. I went a roaming through the woods alone, And heard the nightingale that made her moan. But in my heart and in my brain the cry, The wail, the dirge, the dirge of Death and Love, Still throbs and throbs, flute-like, and will not die, Piercing and clear the night-bird's tune above. -- The aching, anguish'd, wild-swan's note, whereof The sweet sad flower of song was overblown. I went a roaming through the woods alone, And heard the nightingale that made her moan. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE NIGHTINGALE IS LIKE THE SCENT OF SYRINGA by MINA LOY THE NIGHTINGALE IN BADELUNDA by TOMAS TRANSTROMER THE NIGHTINGALE by PAUL VERLAINE ODE, FR. THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM by RICHARD BARNFIELD NIGHTINGALES by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES BIANCA AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE NIGHTINGALE; A CONVERSATION POEM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE VENICE by JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS |
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