Ode to a Nightingale 夜莺颂-卷福朗读
Ode to a Nightingale John Keats
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness --
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
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