To a Lady, after Hearing her Read Keats' "Nightingale"
AFTER HEARING HER READ KEATS' " NIGHTINGALE "
This supreme song of him who dreamed
All beauty, and whose heart foreknew
The anguish of vain longing, seemed
To breathe new mystery, breathed by you.
As if the rapture of the night,
Moon-tranced, and passion-still, were stirred
To some undreamed divine delight
By sudden singing of a bird!
This supreme song of him who dreamed
All beauty, and whose heart foreknew
The anguish of vain longing, seemed
To breathe new mystery, breathed by you.
As if the rapture of the night,
Moon-tranced, and passion-still, were stirred
To some undreamed divine delight
By sudden singing of a bird!
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