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Updated: July 7, 2025
It was a most lovely still evening the air but hear the skipper. "It is the hour when from the boughs, The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers vows, Seem sweet in every whisper'd word; And gentle winds and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear.
The woodland on the opposite bank was vocal with the chirp and croak and chatter of Australian birds, all mirthful, all songless, save that sweetest of warblers, which some early irreverent emigrant degraded to the name of magpie, but whose note is sweeter than the nightingale's, and trills through the lucent air with a distinct ecstatic melody of joy that dominates all the discords, so ravishing the sense, that, while it sings, the ear scarcely heeds the scream of the parrots.
I crossed the wet grass to the hammock under the beech on the lawn, and lay in it awhile trying to swing in time to the nightingale's tune; and then I walked round the ice-house to see how Goethe's corner looked at such an hour; and then I went down to the fir wood at the bottom of the garden where the light was slanting through green stems; and everywhere there was the same mystery, and emptiness, and wonder.
My Ann was the queen of them all, and her nightingale's throat drew even Herdegen to her with great power.
He never compassed even a smoothness approaching this description of a nightingale's song by a third-rate poet of the earlier school, "Trails her plain ditty in one long-spun note Through the sleek passage of her open throat, A clear, unwrinkled song," one of whose beauties is its running over into the third verse. Those poets indeed "Felt music's pulse in all her arteries ";
"I too, like Star-Twinkle, have nothing but a song to offer," replied the Fairy; and then, while the nightingale's sweet voice mingled with her own, she sang,
Honours and gifts showered on Miss Nightingale on all sides, and everybody was eager to show how highly they valued her self-sacrificing labours. If money had been wanted, it would have poured in from all quarters; but when the queen had made inquiries on the subject a year before Miss Nightingale's return, Mr.
The tiny shifting lamps were everywhere; pale yellow, purely white, or green as the underside of a northern wave. By day but an ugly, repellent worm; but darkness comes, and lo, a star alight. Nature is full for us of seeming inconsistencies and glad surprises. The world's asleep, say you; on your ear falls the nightingale's song and the stir of living creatures in bush and brake.
He is hidden now, but she still lingers, listening enraptured to the fountain's murmur and the nightingale's song; looking upward at the moon as she wandered through heaven's pathless way, and thinking that never had earth or sky seemed so lovely before But hark! What sounds are those?
Spare rib, dear?" was his disappointing but hospitable, answer in two return questions to my anxious inquiries about the Pan who had come out of the woods at my need. "No; I mean mean, didn't you call him Adam?" "Nobody knows. Now, William, a spare rib and a muffin is real nourishment after the nightingale's tongues and snails you've been living on for twenty-odd years, isn't it?"
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