L'Oiseau des Bois

Last night I heard in the wood green and still,The sweetest music sung by any bird.I never knew the soul of song, untilLast night I heard.

Pure as life's morning, warm as love first stirred,Fresh it outpoured our close attent to fill.Dearest, you were beside me, and your wordDid through the heavenly harmonies distilThe spirit's joy: and grosser sense was blurred.I never knew the soul of Love, until—Last night I heard!