File:Cornelius Webb - Sonnet I The Nightingale

Description
Not farther than a fledgling's weak first flight, In a low dell, standeth an antique grove; Dusky it is by day, but when 'tis night, None may tread safely there, unlit by Love. In lonelier days, it was my mood to rove At all hours there—to hear what mirth I might Of the passionate Lark, the brooding Dove, And the strong Thrush—all breathers of delight. When Night's drawn curtains darkened the deep vale, And the rich music of the day was ended, Out gushed a sudden song of saddest wail, Breaking the silence it with sweetness mended:— It was the voice of the waked Nightingale— Come, love, and hear her melancholy tale.

Cornelius Webb

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-i-the-nightingale/

Category: music

Keywords: Cornelius Webb, Sonnet I The Nightingale