Mortimer Wheeler.
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE LARK.
When the fairies are all for their dances drest,
When day's discords in the distance fail,
When the robin and wren are asleep in the nest,
Then list to the note of the nightingale!
But when diamonds glint on the dewy swale,
When star-fires are fading spark by spark,
And the little birds all the dawning hail,
O hark to the song of the merry lark!
When over the hills the silver crest
Is pouring enchantment on mere and vale,
And the world lies hushed in a dreamy rest,
Then list to the note of the nightingale!
But when the bright sun dight in golden mail
Flames over the tree-tops in the park,
And the world goes again on its busy trail,
O hark to the song of the merry lark!
When the young heart flutters in Mabel's breast,
And Algernon's cheek for once only is pale,
As the secret, half guessed, is at last confessed,
Then list to the note of the nightingale!
But when Corydon hides in a turn o' the dale,
And Phillis is met where no one may mark,
And the sudden blush and the kiss tell the tale,
O hark to the song of the merry lark!
Envoi.
If Il Penseroso's mood prevail,
Then list to the note of the nightingale!
But whenever L'Allegro woos, then hark,
O hark to the song of the merry lark!
Ernest Whitney.