Page:Elegiac Sonnets 1.pdf/23

Rh

OOR melancholy bird—that all night long
 * Tell'st to the Moon thy tale of tender woe;
 * From what sad cause can such sweet sorrow flow,

And whence this mournful melody of song?

Thy poet's musing fancy would translate
 * What mean the sounds that swell thy little breast,
 * When still at dewy eve thou leavest thy nest,

Thus to the listening Night to sing thy fate?

Pale Sorrow's victims wert thou once among,
 * Tho' now released in woodlands wild to rove?
 * Say—hast thou felt from friends some cruel wrong,

Or died'st thoumartyr of disastrous love? Ah! songstress sad! that such my lot might be, To sigh, and sing at libertylike thee!