Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 137
CXXXVII
The song of nightingales
When the moon fails
Along the lake and down the grassy shore—
This is not yours to hear, who often hear,
But it is mine, my dear,
Who heard it once and hear it evermore.
When the moon fails
Along the lake and down the grassy shore—
This is not yours to hear, who often hear,
But it is mine, my dear,
Who heard it once and hear it evermore.