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(Milton, f. 31, ll. 28–63.)
THOU hearest the Nightingale begin the Song of Spring: | |
| The Lark, sitting upon his earthy bed, just as the morn | |
| Appears, listens silent; then, springing from the waving corn-field, loud | |
| He leads the Choir of Day—trill! trill! trill! trill! | |
| Mounting upon the wings of light into the great Expanse, | 5 |
| Re-echoing against the lovely blue and shining heavenly Shell; | |
| His little throat labours with inspiration; every feather | |
| On throat and breast and wings vibrates with the effluence Divine’ | |
| All Nature listens silent to him, and the awful Sun | |
| Stands still upon the mountain looking on this little Bird | 10 |
| With eyes of soft humility and wonder, love and awe. | |
| Then loud from their green covert all the Birds begin their song: | |
| The Thrush, the Linnet and the Goldfinch, Robin and the Wren | |
| Awake the Sun from his sweet revery upon the mountain: | |
| The Nightingale again assays his song, and thro’ the day | 15 |
| And thro’ the night warbles luxuriant; every Bird of song | |
| Attending his loud harmony with admiration and love. | |
| This is a Vision of the lamentation of Beulah over Ololon. | |
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| Thou perceivest the Flowers put forth their precious Odours; | |
| And none can tell how from so small a centre comes such sweet, | 20 |
| Forgetting that within that centre Eternity expands | |
| Its ever-during doors, that Og and Anak fiercely guard. | |
| First, ere the morning breaks, joy opens in the flowery bosoms, | |
| Joy even to tears, which the Sun rising dries: first the Wild Thyme | |
| And Meadow-sweet, downy and soft, waving among the reeds, | 25 |
| Light springing on the air, lead the sweet dance; they wake | |
| The Honeysuckle sleeping on the oak; the flaunting beauty | |
| Revels along upon the wind; the White-thorn, lovely May, | |
| Opens her many lovely eyes; listening the Rose still sleeps— | |
| None dare to wake her; soon she bursts her crimson-curtain’d bed | 30 |
| And comes forth in the majesty of beauty. Every Flower, | |
| The Pink, the Jessamine, the Wallflower, the Carnation, | |
| The Jonquil, the mild Lily opes her heavens; every Tree | |
| And Flower and Herb soon fill the air with an innumerable dance, | |
| Yet all in order sweet and lovely. Men are sick with love! | 35 |
| Such is a Vision of the lamentation of Beulah over Ololon. | |
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