Go, tuneful bird! that gladd'st the skies. <br />To Daphne's window speed thy way, <br />And there on quivering pinions rise, <br />And there thy vocal art display. <br /> <br />And if she deign thy notes to hear, <br />And if she praise thy matin song, <br />Tell her the sounds that soothe her ear <br />To Damon's native plains belong. <br /> <br />Tell her in livelier plumes array'd, <br />The bird from Indian groves may shine; <br />But ask the lovely partial maid <br />What are his notes compared to thine! <br /> <br />Then bid her treat yon witless beau, <br />And all his flaunting race with scorn, <br />And lend an ear to Damon's woe, <br />Who sings her praise, and sings forlorn.<br /><br />William Shenstone<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-skylark-4/
