Within the haunted thicket, where
The feather'd choristers are met to play;
And celebrate with voices clear,
And accents sweet, the praise of May:
The ouzel, thrush, and speckled lark,
And Philomel, that loves the dawn and dark:
These (the inspired throng)
In numbers smooth and strong
Adorn their noble theme with an immortal song,
10While woods and vaults, the brook and neighbouring hill,