Her short performance was no sooner tried, When she I sought, the nightingale, replied: So sweet, so shrill, so variously she sung, That the grove echoed, and the valleys rung; And I so ravish'd with her heavenly note, I stood entranced, and had no room for thought, But all o'er-power'd with ecstasy of bliss, 120 Was in a pleasing dream of paradise. At length I waked, and looking round the bower, Search'd every tree, and pry'd on every flower, If any where by chance I might espy The rural poet of the melody; For still methought she sung not far away: At last I found her on a laurel spray. Close by my side she sat, and fair in sight, Full in a line, against her opposite; Where stood with eglantine the laurel twined; 130 And both their native sweets were well conjoin'd. On the green bank I sat, and listen'd long; (Sitting was more convenient for the song): Nor till her lay was ended could I move, But wish'd to dwell for ever in the grove. Only methought the time too swiftly pass'd, And every note I fear'd would be the last. My sight and smell, and hearing were employ'd, And all three senses in full gust enjoy'd. And what alone did all the rest surpass, 140 The sweet possession of the fairy place; Single, and conscious to myself alone Of pleasures to the excluded world unknown: Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found, And all Elysium in a spot of ground.