Nocturne

O bird beneath the midnight sky!As on my lonely couch I lie,I hear thee singing in the dark—Why sing not I?

No star-gleams meet thy wakeful eye3No fond mate answers to thy cry;No other voice, through all the dark,Makes sweet reply.

Yet never skylark soaring highWhere sun-lit clouds rejoicing lie,Sang as thou singest in the dark,Not mute as I!

O lone, sweet spirit! tell me whySo far thy ringing love-notes fly,While other birds, hushed by the dark,Are mute as I?

No prophecy of morn is nigh;Yet as the sombre hours glide by,Bravely thou singest in the dark—Why sing not I?