Endeavouring, by a thousand tricks, to catch The cunning, confcious, half-averted glance Of their regardless charmer. Should she seem Softening the least approvance to bestow, Their colours burnifh, and by hope infpir'd, They brisk advance; then, on a sudden struck, Retire diforder'd; then again approach; In fond rotation fpread the spotted wing, And shiver every feather with defire.
Connubial leagues agreed, to the deep woods They hafte away, all as their fancy leads, Pleasure, or food, or fecret fafety prompts; That NATURE's great command may be obey'd; Nor all the sweet fenfations they perceive Indulg'd in vain. Some to the holly-hedge Neftling repair, and to the thicket fome ; 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 infects, and its moss their nests. Others apart far in the graffy dale,
Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. But most in woodland folitudes delight,
In unfrequented glooms, or fhaggy banks, Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,
Whofe murmurs foothe them all the live-long day, When by kind duty fix'd. Among the roots Of hazel, pendant o'er the plaintive ftream, They frame the first foundation of their domes ; Dry fprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,
And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought But restless hurry thro' the busy air,
Beat by unnumber'd wings. The fwallow fweeps The flimy pool, to build his hanging house Intent. And often, from the careless back Of herds and flocks a thousand tugging bills Pluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobferv'd, Steal from the barn a ftraw: till foft and warm, Clean, and complete, their habitation grows.
As thus the patient dam affiduous fits, Not to be tempted from her tender task, Or by sharp hunger, or by smooth delight, Tho' the whole loofen'd Spring around her blows, Her fympathizing lover takes his ftand
High on th' opponent bank, and ceafelefs fings The tedious time away; or else supplies Her place a moment, while she sudden flits To pick the fcanty meal. Th' appointed time With pious toil fulfill'd, the callow young, Warm'd and expanded into perfect life,
Their brittle bondage break, and come to light, A helplefs family, demanding food
With conftant clamour: O what paffions then, What melting fentiments of kindly care, On the new parents feize! Away they fly Affectionate, and undefiring bear
The most delicious morfel to their young; Which equally distributed, again
The fearch begins. Even fo a gentle pair, By fortune funk, but form'd of generous mold, And charm'd with cares beyond the vulgar breast, In fome lone cot, amid the distant woods, Suftain'd alone by providential HEAVEN, Oft, as they weeping eye their infant train, Check their own appetites, and give them all. Nor toil alone they fcorn; exalting love, By the great FATHER OF THE SPRING infpir'd, Gives inftant courage to the fearful race, And to the fimple art. With ftealthy wing,
Should fome rude foot their woody haunts moleft, Amid a neighbouring bush they silent drop, And whirring thence, as if alarm'd, deceive
Th' unfeeling school-boy. Hence, around the head Of wandering fwain, the white-wing'd plover wheels Her founding flight, and then directly on
In long excursion skims the level lawn,
To tempt him from her neft. The wild-duck, hence, O'er the rough mofs, and o'er the trackless wafte The heath-hen flutters, pious fraud! to lead The hot purfuing fpaniel far aftray.
Be not the Muse asham'd, here to bemoan Her brothers of the grove, by tyrant Man Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage From liberty confin'd, and boundless air. Dull are the pretty flaves, their plumage dull, Ragged, and all its brightening luftre loft; Nor is that sprightly wildnefs in their notes, Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech. O then, ye friends of love, and love-taught fong, Spare the foft tribes, this barbarous art forbear; bofom innocence can win,
Mufic engage, or piety perfuade.
But let not chief the nightingale lament Her ruin'd care, too delicately fram'd To brook the harsh confinement of the cage. Oft when, returning with her loaded bill, Th' aftonish'd mother finds a vacant nest, By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns Robb'd, to the ground the vain provision falls; Her pinions ruffle, and low-drooping fcarce
Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade; Where, all abandon'd to despair, the fings Her forrows thro' the night; and, on the bough, Sole-fitting, ftill at every dying fall
Takes up again her lamentable strain
Of winding woe; till, wide around, the woods Sigh to her fong, and with her wail refound.
But now the feather'd youth their former bounds, Ardent, disdain; and, weighing oft their wings, Demand the free poffeffion of the sky:
This one glad office more, and then diffolves Parental love at once, now needless grown. Unlavish Wisdom never works in vain.
'Tis on fome evening, funny, grateful, mild, When nought but balm is breathing thro' the woods, With yellow luftre 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, ftill at the giddy verge Their refolution fails; their pinions ftill, In loose libration stretch'd, to trust the void Trembling refuse: till down before them fly The parent-guides, and chide, exhort, command, Or push them off. The furging air receives
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