Ambitious to be or seen or heard, And pleased to be admired. This moss-lined shed, green, soft, and dry, Not shunning man's abode, though shy, Strange places, coverts unendear'd, She never tried; the very nest In which this child of Spring was rear'd, Is warm'd through winter by her feathery breast. To the bleak winds she sometimes gives That tells the Hermitess still lives, Though she appear not, and be sought in vain. Say, Dora! tell me by yon placid moon, If call'd to choose between the favour'd pair, Which would you be,—the bird of the saloon, By ladies' fingers tended with nice care, Caress'd, applauded, upon dainties fed,Or Nature's darling of this mossy shed? THE SWALLOW PEOPLE. Thomson. WHEN Autumn scatters his departing gleams, Or rather into warmer climes convey'd, With other kindred birds of season, there The stork assembly meets; for many a day And many a circle, many a short essay, Wheel'd round and round, in congregation fell The figured flight ascends, and, riding high The aërial billows, mixes with the clouds. SINGING BIRDS. Ben Jonson. HARK! how each bough a several music yields; The Finches carol, and the Turtles bill. |