O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover’s heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover’s heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
