Bright Star Soundtrack- 09-Ode To A Nightingale- Ben Whishaw

my heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains my scent as though of Hemlock I had drunk or emptied some dull opiate to the drains one minute past and leafy woods had sunk it is not through envy of thy happy lot but being too happy and died in happiness that thou light winget dryer dove the trees in some melodious plot of beech and green and shadows numberless silliest of summer in full throated ease over a draught of vintage that has been cooled along aged in the deep delve at earth tasting a flora and the country green dance and Provencal song and sunburned mirth over a beaker full of the warm South full of the true the blushful Hippocrene with beaded bubbles winking at the brim and purple stain ad month I might drink and leave the world unseen and with thee fade away into the forest dim fade far away dissolve and quite forget but thou among the leaves has to never know the weariness the fever and the fret here when men sit and hear each other groan where palsy shakes a few sad last gray hairs where youth grows pale and spectre thin and dies were but to think is to be full of sorrow and lead and I'd despairs where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes on you love pilot them beyond tomorrow a way a way for I will fly to be not chariot adverse and his pods but on the viewless wings of Posie the dull brain perplexes and retards already with thee Tender is the night and happily the queen moons on her throne clustered around by all her starry phase but here there is no light say what from heaven is with the breezes blown vourderis glooms and winding muscle waves I cannot see what flowers are at my feet and what soft incense hands upon the boughs but in embalmer darkness guess each suite where with the seasonable month and hours the grass the thicket and the fruit tree wild white Hawthorn and the pastoral eglantine fast fading violets covered up in leaves and mid maze eldest child the coming Musgrove full of dewy wine the murmurous haunt of flies on summer eaves darkling I listen and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful death causing soft names in many a muted rhyme to take into the air my quiet breath now more than ever seems it rich to die to cease upon the midnight with no pain while thou are pouring forth thy soul abroad in such an ecstasy still would star sing and I have ears in vain to thy high requiem become the sod I was not born for death immortal bird no hungry generations tread me down the voice I hear this passing night was heard in ancient days by Emperor and clown perhaps the self same song that found a path through the sad heart of Ruth when sick for whom she stood in tears and with the alien core the same that oftimes hath charmed magic placements opening on the foam of perilous seas in fairy lands forlorn forlorn the very word is like a bell to toll me back from the DA my soul self I do the fancy cannot cheat so well as she is famed to do deceiving elf I do add you a plaintive anthem fades past the near Meadows over the still stream up the hillside and now it is buried deep in the next Valley glades was it a vision or a waking dream fled is that music do I wake or sleep

Channel: FilmScoreBuff

Views: 55,610

Rating: 4.9610138 out of 5

Keywords: mark, bradshaw, bright, star, 2009, original, motion, picture, soundtrack, ben, whishaw, abbie, cornish, john, keates, brawn, poetry, ode, to, nightinggale

Id: tYyciOTn74U

Length: 5min 24sec (324 seconds)

Published: Thu May 03 2012