THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE GLOWWORM

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A nightingale, that all day long

Had cheered the village with his song,

Nor yet at eve his note suspended,

Nor yet when eventide was ended,

Began to feel, as well he might,

The keen demands of appetite;

When, looking eagerly around,

He spied far off, upon the ground,

A something shining in the dark,

And knew the glowworm by his spark;

So, stooping from the hawthorn top,

He thought to put him in his crop.

The worm, aware of his intent,

Harangued him thus, right eloquent:

“Did you admire my lamp,” quoth he,

“As much as I your minstrelsy,

You would abhor to do me wrong

As much as I to spoil your song;

For ’twas the selfsame Power divine

Taught you to sing and me to shine;

That you with music, I with light,

Might beautify and cheer the night.”

The songster heard this short oration,

And, warbling out his approbation,

Released him, as my story tells,

And found a supper somewhere else.

—William Cowper.