Here you will find the Poem About The Nightingale of poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge
From a letter from STC to Wordsworth after writing The Nightingale: In stale blank verse a subject stale I send per post my Nightingale; And like an honest bard, dear Wordsworth, You'll tell me what you think, my Bird's worth. My own opinion's briefly this-- His bill he opens not amiss; And when he has sung a stave or so, His breast, & some small space below, So throbs & swells, that you might swear No vulgar music's working there. So far, so good; but then, 'od rot him! There's something falls off at his bottom. Yet, sure, no wonder it should breed, That my Bird's Tail's a tail indeed And makes it's own inglorious harmony Æolio crepitû, non carmine.