Star.
London, England, 1820-07-27 00:00:00

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ODE TO A:-NiGpIINGALL

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Ire c•ry Ow' Aileviel Arearsjime Mr. Nag
'duo/ f Rau, just published.

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Dly heart aches, and a drowsy sitnnbness pain
My imse, as *ugly*, hemlock I had drunk;
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains,
One minute past, and. Letheivardihad sunk :
'Tie not through envy of thy happy lot, '
But being too happy in thine happiness,-.es
. That thou, light-wing'd Dryad of the trees, •
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease !
0 ! for a draught of vintage ! that bath been
Coord a long age in the deep.deiv'd earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance and Provencal song, and sun-binst mirth !
0! for a beaker full of the warm South—
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth ;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, •
And with thee fade into the forest dim !
•
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves bast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,
And y >nth grows pale, and spettre-thin, and dies ;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
• And leaden-ey'd despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow !
Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by BACCIIC3 and his pants,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards :
Already with thee ! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry lays ;
But here there is no light,
Save what from Heaves: is with the breezes blown '
Through verd'rousgloonss and winding mossy ways !
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
•
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
r..,t, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet,
Whererith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild ;
White. hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets, cover'd up in leaves,
And mid-May's eldest child
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves !

Dtilaing I listen ; And, for many a time
I have been half in love with easrfnl Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath ;
Now,•more than ever, seems It rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad.
In such an ecstasy !
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain,—
To tuy high requiem btcome a sod!
Thou vast not born for death, immorta' bird !

No hungry generations tread thee down ;
The voice I bear this passing night, was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown :
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path'
Through the sad heart of Revu, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn ;
The s• me that oft-times bath
Cliarm'd magic casements, op'ning °tithe foam
Of perilous seas, in facry hinds forlorn !
Pirlorn ! the very word is like a belt
To toll me back from thee to my sole self !
Adku ! the fancy cannot cheat so well
she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. .: .
Adieu adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, o'er the still stream?
- .Up the hill side; and now %is isaried deep
In the neat valley glades :
Was it a vision, or a waking dream ?
Fled is that music :—Do I wake or sleep ?. •