Oft quiver'd his bosom, and flutter'd his wing,
While matins he chanted to heaven's high King!
The hour was early;—and time swiftly soon fled
When Robin allur'd me from tombs of the dead.
That space then sufficient I might not well spare
An hour to devote in the temple of prayer.
Farewell, tuneful warbler, farewell to thy lay,
Which fondly I'll cherish for many a day!
Far hence, all unwilling, from thee I depart;
Impress'd be thy memory still on my heart!