Page:The Unconquered Air, Coates, 1912.djvu/26

 10 Not music when it wells

From the enchanted fairy-haunted dells

Where, shrined mid thorn and vine—

An ecstasy apart,

Drawn from the life-blood of a yearning heart—

The nightingale pours forth forever

The rapture and the pain, that naught can sever,

Of love which mortal is, yet knows itself divine!