N

Endeavouring by a thousand tricks to catch
The cunning, conscious, half-averted glance
Of their regardless charmer. Should she seem,
Softening, the least approvance to bestow,
Their colours burnish, and by hope inspired,
They brisk advance; then, on a sudden struck,
Retire disordered; then again approach;
In fond rotation spread the spotted wing,
And shiver every feather with desire.

Connubial leagues agreed, to the deep woods.
They haste away, all as their fancy leads,
Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts;
That Nature's great command may be obeyed,
Nor all the sweet sensations they perceive
Indulged in vain. Some to the holly-hedge
Nestling repair, and to the thicket some;
Some to the rude protection of the thorn
Commit their feeble offspring. The cleft tree
Offers its kind concealment to a few,

Their food its insects, and its moss their nests.
Others, apart, far in the grassy dale,

Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave.
But most in woodland solitudes delight,
In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks,
Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,

Whose murmurs soothe them all the live-long day,
When by kind duty fixed. Among the roots
Of hazel, pendent o'er the plaintive stream,
They frame the first foundation of their domes;
Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,

And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought
But restless hurry through the busy air,

Beat by unnumbered wings. The swallow sweeps

The slimy pool, to build his hanging house

Intent.
Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills
Pluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobserved,
Steal from the barn a straw: till soft and warm,
Clean, and complete, their habitation grows.

And often, from the careless back

As thus the patient dam assiduous sits, Not to be tempted from her tender task,

Or by sharp hunger, or by smooth delight,

Though the whole loosened Spring around her blows.

Her sympathizing lover takes his stand.

High on the opponent bank, and ceaseless sings

The tedious time away; or else supplies

Her place a moment, while she sudden flits

To pick the scanty meal. The appointed time
With pious toil fulfilled, the callow young,

Warmed and expanded into perfect life,

Their brittle bondage break, and come to light;

A helpless family, demanding food

With constant clamour. Oh, what passions then,
What melting sentiments of kindly care,

On the new parents seize! Away they fly,
Affectionate, and undesiring bear

The most delicious morsel to their young;

Which equally distributed, again

The search begins. Even so a gentle pair,

By fortune sunk, but formed of generous mould.

And charmed with cares beyond the vulgar breast,
In some lone cot, amid the distant woods,
Sustained alone by providential Heaven,
Oft, as they weeping eye their infant train,
Check their own appetites and give them all.
Nor toil alone they scorn: exalting love,
By the great Father of the Spring inspired,
Gives instant courage to the fearful race,
And to the simple art. With stealthy wing,

Should some rude foot their woody haunts molest,
Amid a neighbouring bush they silent drop,

And whirring thence, as if alarmed, deceive

The unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head,
Of wandering swain, the white-winged plover wheels
Her sounding flight, and then directly on

In long excursion skims the level lawn,

To tempt him from her nest. The wild-duck, hence.
O'er the rough moss, and o'er the trackless waste
The heath-hen flutters, pious fraud! to lead
The hot pursuing spaniel far astray.

Be not the muse ashamed, here to bemoan
Her brothers of the grove, by tyrant man
Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage
From liberty confined, and boundless air.
Dull are the pretty slaves, their plumage dull,
Ragged, and all its brightening lustre lost;
Nor is that sprightly wildness in their notes,
Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech.
Oh then, ye friends of love and love-taught song,
Spare the soft tribes, this barbarous art forbear!

If on your bosom innocence can win,
Music engage, or piety persuade.

But let not chief the nightingale lament
Her ruined care, too delicately framed
To brook the harsh confinement of the cage.
Oft when, returning with her loaded bill,
The astonished mother finds a vacant nest,
By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns
Robbed, to the ground the vain provision falls;
Her pinions ruffle, and, low-drooping, scarce
Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade,
Where all abandoned to despair she sings

Her sorrows through the night; and, on the bough
Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall

Takes up again her lamentable strain

Of winding woe, till wide around the woods

Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound.

But now the feathered youth their former bounds, Ardent, disdain; and, weighing oft their wings, Demand the free possession of the sky:

This one glad office more, and then dissolves
Parental love at once, now needless grown :
Unlavish Wisdom never works in vain.

'Tis on some evening, sunny, grateful, mild,
When nought but balm is breathing through the woods,
With yellow lustre bright, that the new tribes
Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad

On nature's common, far as they can see

Or wing their range and pasture. O'er the boughs
Dancing about, still at the giddy verge

Their resolution fails-their pinions still,
In loose libration stretched, to trust the void
Trembling refuse-till down before them fly
The parent-guides, and chide, exhort, command,
Or push them off. The surging air receives
The plumy burden; and their self-taught wings
Winnow the waving element. On ground

Alighted, bolder up again they lead,

Farther and farther on, the lengthening flight;
Till, vanished every fear, and every power
Roused into life and action, light in air
The acquitted parents see their soaring race,
And, once rejoicing, never know them more.
High from the summit of a craggy cliff,
Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frowns
On utmost Kilda's shore, whose lonely race
Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds,
The royal eagle draws his vigorous young;
Strong-pounced, and ardent with paternal fire.
Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own,

He drives them from his fort, the towering seat,
For ages, of his empire; which, in peace,
Unstained he holds, while many a league to sea
He wings his course, and preys in distant isles.
Should I my steps turn to the rural seat,

Whose lofty elms and venerable oaks
Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs,

In early Spring, his airy city builds,

And ceaseless caws amusive-there, well-pleased, I might the various polity survey