How passing sad! Listen, it sings again! <br />Art thou a spirit that, amongst the boughs, <br />The livelong night dost chant that wondrous strain, <br />Making wan Dian stoop her silver brows <br />Out of the clouds to hear thee? who shall say, <br />Thou lone one! that thy melody is gay, <br />Let him come listen now to that one note, <br />That thou art pouring o'er and o'er again <br />Through the sweet echoes of thy mellow throat, <br />With such a sobbing sound of deep, deep pain. <br />I prithee cease thy song! for from my heart <br />Thou hast made memory's bitter waters start, <br />And filled my weary eyes with the soul's rain.<br /><br />Frances Anne Kemble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-nightingale-7/
