The Nightingale Comments

A Father's Tale (Revisiting The Nightingale) It was one of those still, dark, quiet, balmy nights. Three thoughtful friends sat on a mossy bridge near Nether Stowy, Somerset. A nightingale began to sing. Sam thought of melancholy, Of sorrow not suited to this song, Of poets diluted by books and balls, Of Nature's eternality, Of how a poem should add to all of Nature's loveliness, And be loved, like Nature itself is loved. He crafted such a poem. With delicious notes He describes wild grove, Delicious music of those birds, And fancies nightly votive tribute by a lady (Actually living hard by as gentle maid) . Out of this perfection Arose a promising insight: I'll expose my son to birdsong; Make him a lover of the night. He should not then have dreams like dad's That wake him up in fright. Note: the world needs the word eternality to denote Nature's immortal immensity