A nightingale, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at sunset his note suspended1,
Nor yet when evening was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,
The strong demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark;
So, stooping down from hawthorn2 top,
He thought to put him in his crop3
The worm, aware of his intent,
Scolded him thus, right eloquent4:
“Did you admire my lamp,” said he,
“As much as I your minstrelsy5,
You would hate to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For it was the very same power divine6,
That taught you to sing and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night.”
The songster heard his short oration7,
And singing out his approbation8,
Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.
1 suspended: stopped
2 hawthorn: a kind of tree
3 crop: pouch in a bird’s throat that holds food
4 eloquent: beautiful speech
5 minstrelsy: singing
6 divine: heavenly
7 oration: speech
8 approbation: approval
