Long time I waited for the nightingale, Befooled by that dumb coppice; till the dove And finch descried me watching in the grove, Poor client of the darkness, worn and pale: But oh! how often is our frustrate hope Exchanged by Heaven for unexpected mirth! Though baulked and sleepless, yet I could not mope 'Mid the full matins of the awakened earth; Bold chanticleer, alighting from his perch, 'The night birds play thee false', he said - and crowed; 'Welcome to truth and day!' The lark uprode And carolled. Thus, amid my weary search For song in bowers of silence, June was born, And tuneless night exchanged for choral morn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIDE-BY-NIGHTS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE EARL O' QUARTERDECK by GEORGE MACDONALD THE DARK HILLS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SIR GALAHAD by ALFRED TENNYSON NATALITIUM: MARTIJ 13, 1643 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT BELINDA'S RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS by WILLIAM BROOME SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 16 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |