288 THE NIGHTINGALE, 
gale’s thoughts, in his darkened cage, wrapped round with a green 
cloth, which partially deceives his gaze, and reminds him of his forest. 
In December he begins to dream aloud, to descant, to describe in 
pathetic notes the things passing before his mind—the loved and 
absent objects. Mayhap he then forgets that migration has been for- 
bidden him, and thinks he has arrived in Africa or in Syria, in lands 
lighted by a more generous sun. It may be that he sees this sun; 
sees the rose reblossom, and recommences for her, as say the Persian 
poets, his hymn of impossible love,—‘“ O sun! O sea! O rose !”-- 
(Riickert.) 
For myself, I believe simply that this noble and pathetic hymn, 
with its lofty accent, is nought else but himself, his life of love and 
combat, his nightingale’s drama. He beholds the woods, the beloved 
object which transfigures them. He sees her tender vivacity, and 
the thousand graces of the winged life which we are unable to per- 
ceive. He speaks to her; she answers him. He takes upon himself 
two characters, and, to the full, sonorous voice of the male, replies in 
soft, brief utterances. What then? I doubt not that already the 
rapturousness of his life breaks upon him—the tender intimacy of the 
nest, the little lowly dwelling which would have been his Eden. 
He believes in it; he shuts his eyes, and completes the illusion. 
The egg is hatched; his Yule-tide miracle disclosed ; his son issues 
forth—the future nightingale, even at its birth sublimely melodious. 
He listens ecstatically, in the night of his gloomy cage, to the future 
song of his offspring. 
And all this, to be sure, passes before him in a poetical confusion, 
where obstacles and strife break up and disturb love’s festival. No 
happiness here below is pure. A third intervenes. The captive in 
his solitude grows irritated and eager; he struggles visibly against 
his unseen adversary—that other, the unworthy rival which is present 
to his mind. 
The scene is developed before him, just as it would have transpired 
in spring, when the male birds returning, towards March or April, and 
before the re-appearance of the hens, resolve to decide among them- 
