A nightingale wakes me. Think of this

A NIGHTINGALE wakes me. Think of this ! -
While she sings so loud, 
A woman is lying in her shroud 
To whom a lover has never vowed : 
O wrong in the world, and by God allowed ! 

Ah me, a girl to be dead, and miss 

That high-and-away, that clang of pain, 
The way Love trebles his sweets again, 
And then feels it vain, 

Jar, jarra ! and keeps to the mocking strain!