The Chirp of the Nightingale
When the day is gone, and shadows creep,
The nightingale in her sorrow sings,
Her trilling notes, a promise deep,
Of dawn’s embrace, with golden wings.

O lullaby of endless tune,
For weary souls who seek to rest,
Sweet creature of the dusk and moon,
Your melodies do soothe the distressed.

In every note, a tearful grace,
In every pause, a tender prayer,
Her plaintive sighs, a heartfelt trace
Of love, a life so fragile and rare.

Thus bides the night, beneath black skies,
While hopeful dreams, like stars entwine,
And as the dawn begins to rise,
I see her song, forever divine.

• Richard Crashaw