- AS IT fell upon a day
- In the merry month of May,
- Sitting in a pleasant shade
- With a grove of myrtles made,
- Beasts did leap and birds did sing,
- Trees did grow and plants did spring;
- Every thing did banish moan
- Save the Nightingale alone.
- She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
- Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
- And there sung the dolefull'st ditty
- That to hear it was great pity.
- Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry;
- Tereu, tereu, by and by:
- That to hear her so complain
- Scarce I could from tears refrain;
- For her griefs so lively shown
- Made me think upon mine own.
- --Ah, thought I, thou mourn'st in vain,
- None takes pith on thy pain:
- Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee,
- Ruthless beasts, they will not cheer thee;
- King pandion, he is dead,
- All thy friends are lapp'd in lead:
- All thy fellow birds do sing
- Careless of thy sorrowing:
- Even so, poor bird, like thee
- None alive will pity me.
- Richard Barnfield