You May Also Like / View all maxioms
The nightingale appear'd the first,
And as her melody she sang,
The apple into blossom burst,
read more
The nightingale appear'd the first,
And as her melody she sang,
The apple into blossom burst,
To life the grass and violets sprang.
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;
Thou read more
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
To shoot at crows is powder flung away.
To shoot at crows is powder flung away.
The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.
The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.
Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours,
Of winter's past or coming void of care,
Well read more
Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours,
Of winter's past or coming void of care,
Well pleased with delights which present are,
Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers.
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the read more
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word;
And gentle winds, and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softly dark, and darkly pure.
Which follows the decline of day,
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
read more
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale:
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
Only last night he felt deadly sick, and, after a great deal of
pain, two black crows flew out read more
Only last night he felt deadly sick, and, after a great deal of
pain, two black crows flew out of his mouth and took wing from
the room.
Hark! ah, the nightingale--
The tawny-throated!
Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst!
read more
Hark! ah, the nightingale--
The tawny-throated!
Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst!
What triumph! hark!--what pain!
. . . .
Again--thou hearest?
Eternal passion!
Eternal pain!