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Poem by Charlotte Turner Smith


Sonnet 3. To a Nightingale


Poor melancholy bird—-that all night long
Tell'st to the Moon, thy tale of tender woe;
From what sad cause can such sweet sorrow flow,
And whence this mournful melody of song?

Thy poet's musing fancy would translate
What mean the sounds that swell thy little breast,
When still at dewy eve thou leav'st thy nest,
Thus to the listening night to sing thy fate!

Pale Sorrow's victims wert thou once among,
Tho' now releas'd in woodlands wild to rove?
Say—-hast thou felt from friends some cruel wrong,
Or diedst thou—-martyr of disastrous love?
Ah! songstress sad! that such my lot might be,
To sigh and sing at liberty—-like thee!



Charlotte Turner Smith

Poem Theme: Nightingale

Charlotte Turner Smith's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 51. Supposed to have been written in the Hebrides
  2. Sonnet 13. From Petrarch (OH! place me where the burning moon)
  3. Sonnet 9. Blest is yon shepherd, on the turf reclined
  4. Sonnet 39. To Night
  5. Sonnet 58. The Glow-Worm


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