Page:Veil other poems .djvu/55

 So delicate the straining ear Scarce carried its faint syllabling Into a heart caught-up to hear That inmost pondering Of bird-like self with self. We stood, In happy trance-like solitude, Hearkening a lullay grieved and sweet— As when on isle uncharted beat 'Gainst coral at the palm-tree's root, With brine-clear, snow-white foam afloat, The wailing, not of water or wind— A husht, far, wild, divine lament, When Prospero his wizardry bent Winged Ariel to bind. . ..

Then silence, and o'er-flooding noon. I raised my head; smiled too. And he— Moved his great hand, the magic gone— Gently amused to see My ignorant wonderment. He sighed. 'It was a nightingale,' he said, 'That sotto voce cons the song He'll sing when dark is spread; And Night's vague hours are sweet and long. And we are laid abed.'