To league-long wastes of knotted reeds 
And mirrored iris, straight succeeds 
The open Broad ; no sedges shake, 
With scarce a dimple spreads the lake, 
The June sun, redd'ning all the west. 
Pours floods of crimson o’er its breast, 
And now to glorious night and song 
Enamoured wakes the warbling throng. 
Each female sits within the shade 
Of lofty reeds ; his serenade 
Her mate resumes, now sweet at will, 
And softly murmured ; then, more shrill 
Clear as a bell it forthwith breaks 
To mimic melodies, now shakes, 
Is silent now—deep into night 
Thus sings he with increased delight. 
Sing on, sweet bird ! affection’s voice 
Will cheer the partner of thy choice ; 
It cheers me, listening to thy song, 
Once heard, by love remembered long; 
Fulfil thy part in Nature’s plan, 
To soothe, perchance to teach proud man 
Soon other lands must hear that strain, 
But, patience ! thou wilt come again. 
