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The rustic bridge—the winding stream,
Where faintly play'd the trembling beam
And, dimly seen, the quiet farm—
Increas'd the ev'ning's pensive charm;
No sounds of day, with clamor rude,
Disturb'd the peaceful solitude;
Mute was all Nature's warbling train,
Save Philomel's enchanting strain.
Sweet bird! thy notes responsive find
A chord in each poetic mind;
And poets still, in rapt'rous lay.
To thee their grateful tribute pay;
Of thee each hallow'd lyre has rung,
By Shakspeare and by Milton sung!
Where faintly play'd the trembling beam
And, dimly seen, the quiet farm—
Increas'd the ev'ning's pensive charm;
No sounds of day, with clamor rude,
Disturb'd the peaceful solitude;
Mute was all Nature's warbling train,
Save Philomel's enchanting strain.
Sweet bird! thy notes responsive find
A chord in each poetic mind;
And poets still, in rapt'rous lay.
To thee their grateful tribute pay;
Of thee each hallow'd lyre has rung,
By Shakspeare and by Milton sung!
And, fair companion of my May!
You felt the breathing charm of May,
The lovely scene your mind inspir'd,
And bright imagination fir'd.
You felt the breathing charm of May,
The lovely scene your mind inspir'd,
And bright imagination fir'd.
