Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Robert Bridges. b. 1844834. Nightingales
BEAUTIFUL must be the mountains whence ye come, | |
And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom | |
Ye learn your song: | |
Where are those starry woods? O might I wander there, | |
Among the flowers, which in that heavenly air | 5 |
Bloom the year long! | |
Nay, barren are those mountains and spent the streams: | |
Our song is the voice of desire, that haunts our dreams, | |
A throe of the heart, | |
Whose pining visions dim, forbidden hopes profound, | 10 |
No dying cadence nor long sigh can sound, | |
For all our art. | |
Alone, aloud in the raptured ear of men | |
We pour our dark nocturnal secret; and then, | |
As night is withdrawn | 15 |
From these sweet-springing meads and bursting boughs of May, | |
Dream, while the innumerable choir of day | |
Welcome the dawn. |