To a Nightingale.
Immortal voice, that with such strange delight1
Wooest the lonely hours in passionate strain !2
Enthralled we listen where the élear refrain3
Is borne upon the enchanted breath of Night.4
With ecstacy thou surely dost invite5
To some high joy, but sadly comes again6
The long, low, plaintive note that speaks of pain,7
And hearts that break through sorrow infinite.8
Yoice of the voiceless ! Still thy deathless song9
Thrills passion-laden souls, who listening tell10
In thy full notes their tale of love or wrong,11
Too deep for human words, and so dispel12
The stifling thoughts that all their senses throng,13
In waves of melody beneath thy spell !14