"Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?"

[Ode To A Nightingale, John Keats]

(img: nocturne in black and gold by james whistler)

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