O Nightingale! thou surely art <br />A creature of a "fiery heart":-- <br />These notes of thine--they pierce and pierce; <br />Tumultuous harmony and fierce! <br />Thou sing'st as if the God of wine <br />Had helped thee to a Valentine; <br />A song in mockery and despite <br />Of shades, and dews, and silent night; <br />And steady bliss, and all the loves <br />Now sleeping in these peaceful groves. <br />I heard a Stock-dove sing or say <br />His homely tale, this very day; <br />His voice was buried among trees, <br />Yet to be come at by the breeze: <br />He did not cease; but cooed--and cooed; <br />And somewhat pensively he wooed: <br />He sang of love, with quiet blending, <br />Slow to begin, and never ending; <br />Of serious faith, and inward glee; <br />That was the song -- the song for me!<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/o-nightingale-thou-surely-art/
