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To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep.
To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
The nightingale is singing from the steep.
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.
"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.
For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed,
So poets live upon the living light.
For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed,
So poets live upon the living light.
I have head the nightingale herself.
I have head the nightingale herself.
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth.
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth.
The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.
The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.
Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.
Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.
Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!
Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods read more
Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!
Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among,
I woo, to hear thy even-song.
