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or-VOICE OF THE NIGHTINGALE.-BY…

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or- VOICE OF THE NIGHTINGALE.-BY C. SW..UH. Voice of the nightingale, Heard in the twilight vale, Waking the silence to music and love Sweet is thy vesper vow, Holy and tender now, Worthy the spirits which list thee above. Once, in complaining tone, Notes that were sorrow's own Gashed from thy breast as if thrill'd with some wrong Then as if Hope sprang high, r II to lhe ciloral sky Swept thy full heart on the wings of thy song. Hid in my hermit-tree. Musing in melody, Breath'st thoa that strain to some home of the past! Whence thv sweet nestlings fled, Those thy fond care had fed Gav'st thou them winjs but to leave thee at last? Thus 'tis in life, sweet bird, They whom our hearts preferr'd— They whom we olierisli'd and hoped to call oars- Left us for others then Who would be mothers then, When o'er affection sunh destiny lowers! Yet in thy lonely lot Still dost thou sorrow not Vainly as those who far less should repine 0, in his solitude, Would that man's gratitude Soar'd to his Maker in vespers like thine Voice of the nightingale, Heard in the twilight vale, s Filling with sweetness thy hermitage lone, B!est is thy vesper vow, Hol v and tender now, Would that man's gratitude equalled thine own

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