The Nightingale
In grove and glen and meadow fair, The nightingale doth sing, And in my heart is folded there, The dreams of every spring.
With melody that haunts the air, It leads my soul in song, And everywhere I tread, I share, The joy that sweeps along.
O clear and brave, immortal grace, That fills the heart with glee, The nightingale doth hold its place, In every memory!
- William Wilfred Campbell