But  some  night-wandering  man,  whose  heart  was  pierced

With  the  remembrance  of  a  grievous  wrong,

Or  slow  distemper,  or  neglected  love,

(And  so,  poor  wretch  !  fill'd  all  things  with  himself,

And  made  all  gentle  sounds  tell  back  the  tale

Of  his  own  sorrow,)  he,  and  such  as  he,

First  named  these  notes  a  melancholy  strain,

And  many  a  poet  echoes  the  conceit.
• We  have  learnt

A  different  lore :  we  may  not  thus  profane

Nature's  sweet  voices,  always  full  of  love

And  joyance!    'Tis  the  merry  nightingale

*  Ajax  Flag.  v.  630,  *.  r.  X.
f  E'l  Roscignuol,  che  dolcemente  al'ombra
Tutte  le  notti  si  lamenta,  e  piagne.
t


288  HABITS  OF  BIRDS.
