Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music... The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: With a Life of ... - Page 78 by Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1836 - 403 pages Full view -
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