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 Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly,
 Most musical, most melancholy!
  Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods read more 
 Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly,
 Most musical, most melancholy!
  Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among,
   I woo, to hear thy even-song. 
 Soft as Memnon's harp at morning,
 To the inward ear devout,
  Touched by light, with heavenly warning
read more 
 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. 
 Where the nightingale doth sing
 Not a senseless, tranced thing,
  But divine melodious truth.  
 Where the nightingale doth sing
 Not a senseless, tranced thing,
  But divine melodious truth. 
 I said to the Nightingale:
 "Hail, all hail!
  Pierce with thy trill the dark,
   read more 
 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." 
 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. 
 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. 
 'Tis the merry nightingale
 That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates
  With fast thick warble his delicious notes,
read more 
 '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! 
 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. 
 Like a wedding-song all-melting
 Sings the nightingale, the dear one.  
 Like a wedding-song all-melting
 Sings the nightingale, the dear one.