Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/219
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TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
201
But now the scene is changed, and all
Is fancifully new;
The trees, last eve so straight and tall.
Are bending on the view,
And streams of living daylight fall
The silvery arches through.
Is fancifully new;
The trees, last eve so straight and tall.
Are bending on the view,
And streams of living daylight fall
The silvery arches through.
The boughs are strong with glittering pearls,
As dewdrops bright and bland,
And there they gleam in silvery curls,
Like gems of Samarcand,
Seeming in wild fantastic whirls
The works of fairyland.
As dewdrops bright and bland,
And there they gleam in silvery curls,
Like gems of Samarcand,
Seeming in wild fantastic whirls
The works of fairyland.
To the Morning Lark.
Feathered lyric! warbling high,
Sweetly gaining on the sky—
Opening with thy matin lay
Nature's hymn, the eye of day,
Teach my soul, on early wing,
Thus to soar, and thus to sing!
Sweetly gaining on the sky—
Opening with thy matin lay
Nature's hymn, the eye of day,
Teach my soul, on early wing,
Thus to soar, and thus to sing!
While the bloom of Orient light
Guides thee in thy tuneful flight,
May the day-spring from on high,
Seen by Faith's religious eye,
Cheer me with his vital ray,
Promise of eternal day!
Guides thee in thy tuneful flight,
May the day-spring from on high,
Seen by Faith's religious eye,
Cheer me with his vital ray,
Promise of eternal day!
To the Nightingale.
Hark! in the vale I hear thy evening song,
Sweet Nightingale! It soothes my pensive soul.
Dost thou from day's gay flatterers retire,
As I from tumult of the busy world,
To pour thy sad note on the evening gale?
Night and this still serene full well accord
With feelings such as ours. It is a calm
Healthful and sweet to Nature, when the soul
Plumes all her powers, and imps her drooping wing
For other' climes. Yes, songstress of the shade,
Sweet Nightingale! It soothes my pensive soul.
Dost thou from day's gay flatterers retire,
As I from tumult of the busy world,
To pour thy sad note on the evening gale?
Night and this still serene full well accord
With feelings such as ours. It is a calm
Healthful and sweet to Nature, when the soul
Plumes all her powers, and imps her drooping wing
For other' climes. Yes, songstress of the shade,