King David was a sorrowful man: No cause for his sorrow had he: And he called for the music of a hundred harps, To solace his melancholy. They played till they all fell silent: Played -- and play sweet did they; But the sorrow that haunted the heart of King David They could not charm away. He rose; and in his garden Walked by the moon alone, A nightingale hidden in a cypress-tree Jargoned on and on. King David lifted his sad eyes Into the dark-boughed tree -- 'Tell me, thou little bird that singest, Who taught my grief to thee?' But the bird in no wise heeded; And the king in the cool of the moon Hearkened to the nightingale's sorrowfulness, Till all his own was gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE YOUNG LAUNDRYMAN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE CONFLICT by CECIL DAY LEWIS THE CENCI; A TRAGEDY: ACTS 4-5 by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THIRTY EIGHT. ADDRESSED TO MRS. H -- Y. by CHARLOTTE SMITH IMAGES: 5 by RICHARD ALDINGTON HUNTING HORNS by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE AN INVENTORY OF THE FURNITURE IN DR. PRIESTLEY'S STUDY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |