IN the green wood, by a green slope, The nightingale was tuning up Before his full orchestrals broke: And it was golden three o'clock: Three of the green May afternoon, As it were white of the full moon. Out of the green by threes and twos Came little folk in soundless shoes, Quiet and shy and hand in hand, Glad little folks from Elfin land. The blue cap of a hyacinth bell, Their pale hair might adorn it well. Now hear the nightingale his trill! O darling thrush, for once be still! Linnet and finch, forget to sing, For now's the magical hour and thing When on the wings of a song are flown Mortals to the Immortal One. O blackbird, shout no more, for all The listening world is taken in thrall. Listen to the Immortal strain For all that rapture, all that pain, That toss the heart high as the lark To the starred Heaven and the blue dark. In the green wood my eyes were wet, My heart goes crying and soaring yet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FINDING OF THE LYRE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL ELEGIAC SONNET: 7. ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE NIGHTINGALE by CHARLOTTE SMITH WHAT BEST I SEE; TO U.S.G. RETURN'D FROM HIS WORLD'S TOUR by WALT WHITMAN A DAY: AN EPISTLE TO JOHN WILKES, OF AYLESBURY, ESQ. by JOHN ARMSTRONG IN APRIL by MARGARET LEE ASHLEY AN EXPOSTULATION WITH LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THOUGHTS NEAR ASHAMPSTEAD AERODROME, HARVEST-TIME by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB ABSENT YET PRESENT by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON |