A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Now the declining sun 'gan downwards bend	A
From higher heavens and from his locks did send	A
A milder flame when near to Tiber's flow	B
A lutinist allay'd his careful woe	B
With sounding charms and in a greeny seat	C
Of shady oake took shelter from the heat	C
A Nightingale oreheard him that did use	D
To sojourn in the neighbour groves the muse	E
That fill'd the place the Syren of the wood	F
Poore harmless Syren stealing neare she stood	F
Close lurking in the leaves attentively	G
Recording that unwonted melody	G
Shee cons it to herselfe and every strayne	H
His finger playes her throat return'd again	H
The lutinist perceives an answeare sent	I
From th' imitating bird and was content	I
To shewe her play more fully then in hast	J
He tries his lute and giving her a tast	J
Of the ensuing quarrel nimbly beats	K
On all his strings as nimbly she repeats	K
And wildely ranging ore a thousand keys	L
Sends a shrill warning of her after layes	L
With rolling hand the Lutinist then plies	L
His trembling threads sometimes in scornful wise	L
He brushes down the strings and keemes them all	M
With one even stroke then takes them severall	M
And culles them ore again His sparkling joynts	L
With busy descant mincing on the points	L
Reach back with busy touch that done hee stayes	L
The bird replies and art with art repayes	L
Sometimes as one unexpert or in doubt	J
How she might wield her voice shee draweth out	J
Her tone at large and doth at first prepare	N
A solemne strayne not weav'd with sounding ayre	N
But with an equall pitch and constant throate	J
Makes clear the passage of her gliding noate	J
Then crosse division diversly shee playes	L
And loudly chanting out her quickest layes	L
Poises the sounds and with a quivering voice	L
Falls back again he wondering how so choise	L
So various harmony should issue out	J
From such a little throate doth go about	J
Some harder lessons and with wondrous art	J
Changing the strings doth upp the treble dart	J
And downwards smites the base with painefull stroke	O
Hee beats and as the trumpet doth provoke	O
Sluggards to fight even so his wanton skill	M
With mingled discords joynes the hoarse and shrill	M
The Bird this also tunes and while she cutts	L
Sharp notes with melting voice and mingled putts	L
Measures of middle sound then suddenly	M
Shee thunders deepe and juggs it inwardly	M
With gentle murmurs cleare and dull shee sings	L
By course as when the martial warning rings	L
Beleev't the minstrel blusht with angry mood	J
Inflam'd quoth hee thou chauntresse of the wood	J
Either from thee Ile beare the prize away	P
Or vanquisht break my lute without delay	P
Inimitable accents then hee straynes	L
His hand flyes ore the strings in one hee chaynes	L
Four different numbers chasing here and there	N
And all the strings belabour'd everywhere	N
Both flatt and sharpe hee strikes and stately grows	L
To prouder straynes and backwards as he goes	L
Doubly divides and closing upp his layes	L
Like a full quire a shouting consort playes	L
Then pausing stood in expectation	H
If his corrival now dares answeare on	H
But shee when practice long her throate had whett	J
Induring not to yield at once doth sett	J
Her spiritt all of worke and all in vayne	H
For while shee labours to express againe	H
With nature's simple touch such diverse keyes	L
With slender pipes such lofty noates as these	L
Orematcht with high designes orematcht with woe	B
Just at the last encounter of her foe	B
Shee faintes shee dies falls on his instrument	J
That conquer'd her a fitting monument	J
So far even little soules are driven on	H
Struck with a vertuous emulation	H

William Strode

A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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