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Read more poems by William Drummond: William Drummond Poems at Poetry X.

More poems by William DrummondWilliam Drummond | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by William DrummondBooks by William Drummond

To The Nightingale

William Drummond

Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours
Of winters past or coming, void of care,
Well pleased with delights which present are,
(Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers)
To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leafy bowers
Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare,
And what dear gifts on thee He did not spare:
A stain to human sense in sin that lours,
What soul can be so sick which by thy songs
(Attired in sweetness) sweetly is not driven
Quite to forget earth's turmoils, spites, and wrongs,
And lift a reverend eye and thought to heaven?
Sweet artless songster, thou my mind dost raise
To airs of spheres, yes, and to angels' lays.

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 20 Jun 2018 9:18 AM | Viewed: 3067 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/7172/ | Viewed on 20 June 2018.
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