O nightingale that on yon blooming spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,
Thou with fresh hopes the Lover-s heart dost fill,
While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May.
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day,
First heard before the shallow cuckoo-s bill,
Portend success in love. O if Jove-s will
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate
Foretell my hopeless doom, in some grove nigh;
As thou from year to year hast sung too late
For my relief, yet had-st no reason why.
Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate,
Both them I serve, and of their train am I.
Sonnet To The Nightingale
John Milton
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Poem topics: hate, heart, power, success, fresh, bird, relief, reason, soft, liquid, train, Valentine's Day, year, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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