englishverse.com
HomePoetsPoemsBooks
 

Richard Barnefield

Philomel

AS it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made,
Beasts did leap and birds did sing,
Trees did grow and plants did spring;
Everything did banish moan
Save the Nightingale alone:
She, poor bird, as all forlorn
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity.
Fie, fie, fie! now would she cry;
Tereu, Tereu! by and by;
That to hear her so complain
Scarce I could from tears refrain;
For her griefs so lively shown
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah! thought I, thou mourn'st in vain,
None takes pity on thy pain:
Senseless trees they cannot hear thee,
Ruthless beasts they will not cheer thee:
King Pandion he is dead,
All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;
All thy fellow birds do sing
Careless of thy sorrowing:
Even so, poor bird, like thee,
None alive will pity me.

 
Sponsored link
To advertise here, please contact us.
 
About the poet
Richard Barnefield
 
By the same poet
None available
 
Related books
Richard Barnefield at amazon.com


Home  .  Poets  .  Poems  .  Books  .  Site preferences  .  Contact

English  .  Français

© 2003-2006 Waverley Internet Design. All rights reserved.