Warm through the vital air, and on the heart
Harmonious feizes, the gay troops begin,
In gallant thought to plume the painted wing;
And try again the long-forgotten strain,
At first faint-warbled. But no fooner grows.
The foft infufion prevalent and wide,
Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows
In mufic unconfin'd. Up-springs the lark,
Shrill-voic'd, and loud, the meffenger of morn;
Ere yet the fhadows fly, he mounted fings
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts 590
Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copfe
Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush
Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads
Of the coy quirifters that lodge within,
Are prodigal of harmony. The thrush
And wood-lark, o'er the kind-contending throng
Superior heard, run through the sweetest length
Of notes; when liftening Philomela deigns
To let them joy, and purposes, in thought
Elate, to make her night excel their day.
The black-bird whiftles from the thorny brake;
The mellow bullfinch anfwers from the
Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze
Pour'd out profufely, filent. Join'd to these
Innumerous fongsters, in the freshening shade
Of new-fprung leaves, their modulations mix
Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw,
And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone,
Aid the full concert: while the ftock-dove breathes
A melancholy murmur through the whole. 'Tis love creates their melody, and all This wafte of mufic is the voice of love;
That ev'n to birds, and beasts, the tender arts
Of pleafing teaches. Hence the gloffy kind
Try every winning way inventive love
Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates
Pour forth their little fouls. First, wide around,
With diftant awe, in airy rings they rove,
Endeavouring by a thousand tricks to catch
The cunning, confcious, half-averted glance
Of their regardless charmer. Should the feem
Softening the leaft approvance to bestow,
Their colours burnish, and, by hope infpir'd,
They brisk advance; then, on a sudden struck,
Retire diforder'd; then again approach;
In fond rotation fpread the fpotted wing,
And fhiver 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 mofs their nefts.
Others apart far in the graffy dale,
Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. 640 But most in woodland folitudes delight,
In unfrequented glooms, or fhaggy banks,
Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,
Whose murmurs foothe them all the live-long day,
When by kind duty fix'd. 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 reftlefs hurry through the busy air,
Beat by unnumber'd wings. The swallow sweeps
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 unobserv'd, 655
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,
Though the whole loosen'd Spring around her blows.
Her fympathizing lover takes his stand
High on th' opponent bank, and ceaseless fings
The tedious time away; or elfe fupplies
Her place a moment, while the fudden flits
To pick the fcanty meal. Th' appointed time
With pious toil fulfil'd, the callow yourg,
Warm'd and expanded into perfect life,
Their brittle bondage break, and come to light,
A helpless 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
Which equally distributed, again
The fearch begins. Ev'n 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 stealthy wing,
Should fome rude foot their woody haunts moleft,
Amid a neighbouring bush they filent 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 waste
The heath-hen flutters, pious fraud! to lead
The hot pursuing spaniel far aftray.
Be not the Mufe afham'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 fprightly wildness 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;
If on your bofom innocence can win,
Music 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 neft,
By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns
Robb'd, to the ground the vain provifion falls ;
Her pinions ruffle, and, low-drooping, scarce
Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade;
Where, all abandon'd to despair, the fings
Her forrows through 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, difdain; and, weighing oft their wings,
Demand the free poffeffion of the sky:
This one glad office more, and then diffolves
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