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  •   6  /  19  

    Soft as Memnon's harp at morning,
    To the inward ear devout,
    Touched by light, with heavenly warning
    Your transporting chords ring out.
    Every leaf in every nook,
    Every wave in every brook,
    Chanting with a solemn voice
    Minds us of our better choice.

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  15  /  17  

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
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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.

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  4  /  21  

What bird so sings, yet does so wail?
O, 'tis the ravish'd nightingale--
Jug, jug, jug, jug--tereu, read more

What bird so sings, yet does so wail?
O, 'tis the ravish'd nightingale--
Jug, jug, jug, jug--tereu, she cries,
And still her woes at midnight rise.

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  4  /  16  

For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed,
So poets live upon the living light.

For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed,
So poets live upon the living light.

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  17  /  31  

I said to the Nightingale:
"Hail, all hail!
Pierce with thy trill the dark,
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I said to the Nightingale:
"Hail, all hail!
Pierce with thy trill the dark,
Like a glittering music-spark,
When the earth grows pale and dumb."

by Found in: Nightingales Quotes,
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  9  /  24  

Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.

Like a wedding-song all-melting
Sings the nightingale, the dear one.

by Heinrich Heine Found in: Nightingales Quotes,
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  7  /  17  

Hark! ah, the nightingale--
The tawny-throated!
Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst!
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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!

by Matthew Arnold Found in: Nightingales Quotes,
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  12  /  21  

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; read more

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?

by John Keats Found in: Nightingales Quotes,
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  3  /  11  

"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh! idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.

"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh! idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.

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  7  /  16  

'Tis the merry nightingale
That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates
With fast thick warble his delicious notes,
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'Tis the merry nightingale
That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates
With fast thick warble his delicious notes,
As he were fearful that an April night
Would be too short for him to utter forth
His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul
Of all its music!

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