| A Nightingale that all day long Had cheer'd the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when even-tide was ended— Began to feel, as well he might, The keen demands of appetite: When, looking eagerly around, He spied, far off upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glowworm by his spark: So stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent:— "Did you admire my lamp," quoth he, "As much as I your minstrelsy, You would abhor to do me wrong, As much as I to spoil your song; For 'twas the self-same power Divine 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 oration, And, warbling out his approbation, Released him, as my story tells, And found a supper somewhere else. Cowper. |
