The Nightingale Sings
O sweetly sings the nightingale,
In words of poetic allure
That echo through the night’s dark veil
And yet so softly reassure.
Across the years he touched my soul
With philosophies making love;
And even now his words cajole
My pen from where he dwells above.
The poet dear, that sings to me,
In words that set my own voice free.
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