The Nightingale and the Glow-Worm

A nightingale that all day long

Had cheered the village with his song,

Nor yet at eve his note suspended,

Nor yet when eventide was ended,

Began to feel, as well he might,

The keen demands of appetite;

When looking eagerly around,

He spied far off, upon the ground,

A something shining in the dark,

And knew the glowworm by his spark;

So, stooping down from hawthorn top,

He thought to put him in his crop.

The worm, aware of his intent,

Harangued him thus, right eloquent:

"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,

"As much as I your minstrelsy,

You would abhor to do me wrong,

As much as I to spoil your song:

For 'twas the self-same Power Divine

Taught you to sing, and me to shine;

That you with music, I with light,

Might beautify and cheer the night."

The songster heard this short oration,

And warbling out his approbation,

Released him, as my story tells,

And found a supper somewhere else.