Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! Dost thou despise the earth where cares

abound?

Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground? Thy nest, which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still!

WORDSWORTH-Тo a Skylark.

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine: Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood

Of harmony, with instinct more divine: Type of the wise who soar, but never roam: True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!

8.

WORDSWORTH-To a Skylark.

Thou hast a nest, for thy love and thy rest,
And, though little troubled with sloth,
Drunken lark! thou wouldst be loth
To be such a traveller as I.

t.

WORDSWORTH-To a Skylark.

e.

WORDSWORTH-The Green Linnet.

MARTLET.

The martlet

Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force and road of casualty.
Merchant of Venice. Act II. Sc. 9.
This guest of Summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's
breath

Smells wooingly here; no jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird
Hath made its pendent bed, and procreant
cradle:

Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd,

The air is delicate.

f.

Macbeth. Act I. Sc. 6.

MOCKING-BIRD.

MATTHEW ARNOLD-Philomela. Line 1.

As nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.

k. PHILIP J. BAILEY--Festus. Sc. Home.

It is the hour when from the boughs

The nightingale's high note is heard;

It is the hour when lov'rs' vows

Seem sweet in every whisper'd word.
BYRON-Parisina. St. 1.

1.

m.

"Most musical, most melancholy" bird! A melancholy bird! Oh, idle thought! In nature there is nothing melancholy. COLERIDGE-The Nightingale. Line 13. "Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music!

n. COLERIDGE The Nightingale. Line 43. Sweet bird that sing'st away the early hours Of winters past or coming void of care, Well pleased with delights which present

The nightingales are singing On leafy perch aloft.

r.

HEINE-Book of Songs. New Spring.
No. 5.

The nightingale's sweet music
Fills the air and leafy bowers.

S. HEINE-Book of Songs. New Spring.
No. 31.

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? t. KEATS-To a Nightingale.

O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;

Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill

While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May.

d. MILTON-Sonnet. To the Nightingale. Sweet bird that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical most melancholy! Thee, chantress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy evening-song.

e. MILTON - Penseroso. Line 61.

Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day; First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,

f.

Portend success in love;

MILTON-Sonnet. To the Nightingale.

The nightingale now wanders in the vines: Her passion is to seek roses.

g. LADY MONTAGU.

The bird that sings on highest wing,

Builds on the ground her lowly nest; And she that doth most sweetly sing,

Sings in the shade when all things rest: In lark and nightingale we see What honor hath humility.

h.

MONTGOMERY-Humility.

I said to the Nightingale;

'Hail, all hail!

Pierce with thy trill the dark,
Like a glittering music-spark,

When the earth grows pale and dumb."
i. D. M. MULOCK--A Rhyme About

Birds. Yon nightingale, whose strain so sweetly flows,

Mourning her ravish'd young or much-loved

mate,

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale:
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
m. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI-- Bird

Raptures. St. 1.
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be
thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise, and true perfection!
n. Merchant of Venice. Act V. Sc. 1.

Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the feartul hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

0.

Romeo and Juliet. Act. III. Sc. 5.

One nightingale in an interfluous wood
Satiate the hungry dark with melody.
p. SHELLEY-The Woodman and the
Nightingale.

O Nightingale,

Cease from thy enamoured tale.

1.

SHELLEY-Scenes from

66

Magico Prodigioso." Sc. 3.

Lend me your song, ye nightingales! O,

pour

The mazy-running soul of melody Into my varied verse!

1'. THOMSON-The Seasons.

Spring. Line 573.

The rose looks out in the valley,
And thither will I go,

To the rosy vale, where the nightingale
Sings his song of woe.

t.

GIL VICENTE-The Nightingale.

-Under the linden,

On the meadow,

Where our bed arranged was,

--There now you may find e'en
In the shadow

Broken flowers and crushed grass.

--Near the woods, down in the vale,
Tandaradi!

Sweetly sang the nightingale.

น.

WALTER VON DER VOGELWEIDETrans. in The Minnesinger of GerUnder the Linden.

many.

In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower,
The spectral Owl doth dwell;

Dull, hated, despised in the sunshine hour,
But at dusk he's abroad and well!
Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him-
All mock him outright, by day;

But at night, when the woods grow still and dim,

The boldest will shrink away!

Oh, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl! BARRY CORNWALL--The Owl.

C.

When cats run home and light is come,
And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the far-off stream is dumb,
And the whirring sail goes round,
And the whirring sail goes round;
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits.
TENNYSON-Song. The Owl.

k.

The lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade, Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed. YOUNG--Love of Fame.

1.

BIRD OF PARADISE.

Satire V. Line 209.

Those golden birds that, in the spice time

drop

About the gardens, drunk with that sweet

food

Whose scent hath lur'd them o'er the summer flood;

And those that under Araby's soft sun
Build their high nests of budding cinnamon.
m. MOORE-Lalla Rookh. The Veiled
Prophet of Korassan.

PARTRIDGE.

Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!-'Tis no sport for peas

Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, But may imagine how the bird was dead, Although the kite soar with unblooded beak? Act III. Sc. 2. Henry VI. Pt. II.

PEACOCK.

For everything seem'd resting on his nod,
As they could read in all eyes. Now to them,
Who were accustom'd, as a sort of god,
To see the sultan, rich in many a gem,
Like an imperial peacock stalk abroad
(That royal bird, whose tail's a diadem,)
With all the pomp of power, it was a doubt
How power could condescend to do without.
p.
BYRON--Don Juan. Canto VII.

St. 74.

To frame the little animal, provide
All the gay hues that wait on female pride:
Let Nature guide thee; sometimes golden
wire

The shining bellies of the fly require;
The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not

fail,

Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tale. GAY--Rural Sports. Canto I.

q.

Line 177.