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Poem by John Milton


To the Nightingale


O Nightingale! that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill,
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Portend success in love; O, if Jove's will
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate
Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh;
As thou from year to year hast sung too late
For my relief, yet hadst no reason why:
Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate,
Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 



John Milton


John Milton's other poems:
  1. Psalm 5
  2. Psalm 80
  3. Psalm 6
  4. Another On The Same
  5. Upon the Circumcision


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Samuel Coleridge To the Nightingale ("Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel!")
  • James Thomson To the Nightingale ("O nightingale, best poet of the grove")
  • Anne Hunter To the Nightingale ("WHY from these shades, sweet bird of eve")
  • Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea To the Nightingale ("Exert thy voice, sweet harbinger of spring!")

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