To A Nightingale

Oh nightingale, how do you bail
The tired man, by your song?
Sitting close by, why don’t you sigh?
But chant your melody all night long.
Sent from above through the song of love
How do you sing such a lovely strain?
With a song for whom? My gratitude groom,
Your music showers like the golden rain.
On that tree’s bark, oh! magical harp!
Please sing more I request,
Abiding nature’s law; I listen in awe,
Do sing once more I wait in zest.
Oh please tell me, a voice so free,
How do you shine in the dusk?
To heaven it seems, chanting hymns?
Or to God, what do you ask?
The queen of the dark, my dearest lark,
The magical tune it makes me pray,
As I listen to you, the song you choose,
Until the night turns into day.
Through the bliss of spring, you always sing,
An icon of dusk it seems to me,
I hail your song, all spring long,
I want to be you, I want to be thee.