Nympheas by Claude Monet

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Bird of the wilderness,
Blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matin o’er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place -
O, to abide in the desert with thee!

Wild is thy lay and loud,
Far in the downy cloud,
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
Where, on thy dewy wing,
Where art thou journeying?
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.
(James Hogg)

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The lake lay blue below the hill,
O'er it, as I looked, there flew
Across the waters, cold and still,
A bird whose wings were palest blue.

The sky above was blue at last,
The sky beneath me blue in blue,
A moment, ere the bird had passed,
It caught his image as he flew.
(Mary Coleridge)

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The sun has long been set,
The stars are out by twos and threes,
The little birds are piping yet
Among the bushes and the trees;
There’s a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes,
And the cuckoo’s sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.

Who would go “parading”
In London, and “masquerading,”
On such a night of June
With that beautiful soft half-moon,
And all these innocent blisses?
0n such a night as this is!
(William Wordsworth)

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Every night the farmer had lain in bed listening to the nightingale’s beautiful song and thinking how he would love to possess the bird for himself.

He laid a trap and the nightingale was caught and caged. “Now you shall always sing for me,” he told the bird.

“But nightingales never sing in cages,” the bird replied, “However, if you let me go free, I promise that I’ll tell you three things that are very much better than my singing.”

The farmer opened the door of the cage and the nightingale flew out and alighted on a nearby tree.

The bird told him, “Never believe a captive's promise, keep what you have and don’t sorrow what is lost forever," and flew away, never to return.

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Thanks to IsisVisuals for uploading this video.



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