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  •   15  /  32  

    O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray
    Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;
    Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill
    While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.

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  10  /  22  

As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
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As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made.

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  11  /  28  

The nightingale appear'd the first,
And as her melody she sang,
The apple into blossom burst,
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The nightingale appear'd the first,
And as her melody she sang,
The apple into blossom burst,
To life the grass and violets sprang.

by Heinrich Heine Found in: Nightingales Quotes,
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  34  /  52  

Hark! that's the nightingale,
Telling the self-same tale
Her song told when this ancient earth was young:
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Hark! that's the nightingale,
Telling the self-same tale
Her song told when this ancient earth was young:
So echoes answered when her song was sung
In the first wooded vale.

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  9  /  24  

Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.

Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.

by Heinrich Heine Found in: Nightingales Quotes,
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  3  /  11  

"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh! idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.

"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh! idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.

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  12  /  49  

Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I read more

Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown.

by John Keats Found in: Nightingales Quotes,
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  52  /  54  

The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and I think
The read more

The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many thing by season seasoned are
To their right praise and true perfection!

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  10  /  37  

The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.

The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.

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  15  /  17  

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
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The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale:
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.

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