Explore "Nanine" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
We heard a song-bird trilling -- / 'T was but a night ago.
Such rapture he was rilling / As only we could know.
This morning he is flinging / His music from the tree, / But something in the singing / Is not the same to me.
His inspiration fails him, / Or he has lost his skill.
Nanine, Nanine, what ails him / That he should sing so ill?
Nanine is not replying -- / She hears no earthly song.
The sun and bird are lying / And the night is, O, so long!