And hark! the nightingale begins its song,
“Most musical, most melancholy” bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh, idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.
* * * ’Tis the merry nightingale
That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates
With fast, thick warble his delicious notes,
As he were fearful that an April night
Would be too short for him to utter forth
His lone chant, and disburden his full soul