This entire poem is based on a single poetic conceit that is so matter-of-factly taken for granted that it is

easy to overlook: The poem tacitly assumes that the bird to whom Keats is addressing his ode is
immortal—that in fact only one nightingale exists and has ever existed. It looks exactly the same and
sounds exactly the same as birds of that species have looked and sounded for countless centuries.
Furthermore, the nightingale is immortal because it has no conception of death. Only human beings
suffer from the fear of death and the feeling of futility with which death taints all human endeavor.
Finally, the bird can be considered immortal because of the familiar Greek legend that the nightingale is
the metamorphized soul of the ravished princess Philomela.