Nightingale - The Forest Bard

On a branch of emerald leaves
The nightingale doth dwells
Soothing thee with dulcet song
The silence he dispels

Hark! He sings his carol blessed
Sensation he doth draw
Of forest beasts that gather round
Of feather, fur, of claw

As his hymn draws to a close
The morn arrives with light
And 'neath the rays of golden sun
The forest bard takes flight