Classic Poem

A NIGHTINGALE made a mistake;
— She sang a few notes out of tune;
Her heart was ready to break,
— And she hid away from the moon.
She wrung her claws, poor thing!
— But was far too proud to weep;
She tucked her head under her wing,
— And pretended to be asleep.

A lark, arm in arm with a thrush,
— Came sauntering up to the place;
The nightingale felt herself blush,
— Though feathers hid her face.
She knew they had heard her song,
— She felt them snicker and sneer;
She thought that life was too long,
— And wished she could skip a year.

" Oh, Nightingale, " cooed a dove —
— " Oh, Nightingale, what's the use?
You bird of beauty and love,
— Why behave like a goose?
Don't skulk away from our sight,
— Like a common, contemptible fowl;
You bird of joy and delight,
— Why behave like an owl?

" Only think of all you have done,
— Only think of all you can do;
A false note is really fun
— From such a bird as you!
Lift up your proud little crest,
— Open your musical beak;
Other birds have to do their best —
— You need only to speak. "

The nightingale shyly took
— Her head from under her wing,
And, giving the dove a look,
— Straightway began to sing.
There was never a bird could pass;
— The night was divinely calm,
And the people stood on the grass
— To hear that wonderful psalm.

The nightingale did not care;
— She only sang to the skies;
Her song ascended there,
— And there she fixed her eyes.
The people that stood below
— She knew but little about;
And this tale has a moral, I know,
— If you'll try to find it out.