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!