The Nightingale
By John Clare
This is the month the nightingale, clod brown, Is heard among the woodland shady boughs: This is the time when in the vale, grass-grown, The maiden hears at eve her lover's vows, What time the blue mist round the patient cows Dim rises from the grass and half conceals Their dappled hides. I hear the nightingale, That from the little blackthorn spinney steals To the old hazel hedge that skirts the vale, And still unseen sings sweet. The ploughman feels The thrilling music as he goes along, And imitates and listens; while the fields Lose all their paths in dusk to lead him wrong, Still sings the nightingale her soft melodious song.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"This is the month the nightingale, clod brown,..."
John Clare's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "The Nightingale"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...