Nightingale, Nightingale

April 1, 2009
By Anonymous

Nightingale, nightingale, sing me a pretty song
That puts my mind in easy sleep and takes away my wrong.
Nightingale, nightingale, sing me a lullaby
To chase away my heart of ache and my lachrymose cry.

Rain so bitter doth heaven shed and curses me
With a daffodil. Ophelia could not understand
This illness of the mind—for who would these fardels
Share whilst their own worlds go awry?

Nightingale, nightingale, dost thou goest too? Stay
A while and comfort me, ease my lonely cry.
Nightingale, nightingale, thou giveth me a weed,
Queen Anne’s Lace makes no fair gift for such a one in need.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book