...love-poet's most perfect rhythm was mingled with its notes as he listened to the song, — ' Thou wert not born for death, Immortal Bird, No hungry generations tread thee down.' Amongst the ripples of every stream he caught echoes of Wordsworth's river sonnets, and whether alone,...

...thou art pouring forth tby soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have eats in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou...No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I heat this passing night, was heard In ancient days by çmperor and clow» : Perhaps the self-same song...

...midnight with no pain. While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still won lost thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high...born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations teead thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown...

...no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wonldst thou siug, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become...; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart...

...upon the midnight with no pain, ' While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy ! Still would'st thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. VII. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

...cease opon the midnight with no pain, While thou ait pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy 1 Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Г. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

...himself. What can be more distinct, beautiful, and true, than this address to the nightingale : — " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I heard this passing night, was heard In ancient days, by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self same song...

...wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I heard this passing night, was heard In ancient days, by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears...

...Keats's sweet description of this poetic warbler. (Her mother gives her a book, and Ann reads.) " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry...voice I hear this passing night, was heard In ancient clays, by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self same song that found a path Through the sad heart of...