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O thou, whose days are yet all spring,

Faith, blighted once is past retrieving; Experience is a dumb, dead thing;

The victory's in believing. d. LOWELL-TO

A man may be a heretic in the truth; and if he believe things only because his pastor says so, or the assembly so determines, without knowing other reason, though his belief be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy.

MILTON- Areopagitica. Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by


my side

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In the cause of mankind, if our creeds

agree? f. MOORE-- Come Send Round the Wine. For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, His can't be wrong whose life is in the right. g. POPE--Essay on Man. Ep. III.

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BELLS. How sweet the tuneful bells' responsive peal! 9. BOWLES-Fourteen Sonnets. Ostend.

On Hearing the Bells at Sea.
But just as he began to tell,
The auld kirk-hammer strak the bell,
Some wee short hour ayont the twal,

Which raised us baith.
BURNS-Death and Dr. Hornbook,

St. 31.
That all-softening, overpowering knell,
The tocsin of the Soul- the dinner bell.

BYRON- Don Juan. Canto V. St. 49. How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet. t. COWPER-- The Task. Winter Walk at

Noon. Line 1. The church-going bell.

COWPER - Alexander Selkirk.
Wanwordy, crazy, dinsome thing,
As e'er was framed to jow or ring!
What gar'd them sic in steeple hing,

They ken themsel;
But weel wot I, they couldna bring

Waur sounds frae hell.
છે. FERGUSSON-To the Ton-Kirk Bell.
I call the Living-I mourn the Dead-
I break the Lightning.

Inscribed on the Great Bell of the
Minster of Schaffhausen

also on that of the Church of Art, near

Lucerne. The cheerful Sabbath bells, where ever

heard, Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the

voice Of one, who from the far-off hills proclaims Tidings of good to Zion.

LAMB---The Sabbath Bells. Line 1. He heard the convent bell, Suddenly in the silence ringing For the service of noonday. y LONGFELLOW-Christus. The Golden

Legend. Pt. II.

If I am right thy grace impart,

Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, o teach my heart

To find that better way!

h. POPE- Universal Prayer. Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, But looks through nature up to nature's God.

i. POPE--Essay on Man. Line 330. And when religious sects ran mad,

He held, in spite of all his learning, That if a man's beliet is bad,

It will not be improved by burning. j. PRAED--Poems of Life and Manners.

Pt. II. The Vicar. St. 9. Orthodoxy, my Lord,” said Bishop Warburton, in a whisper, --"orthodoxy is my doxy, - heterodoxy is another man's doxy."

k. JOSEPH PRIESTLY--Memoirs. No one is so much alone in the universe as a denier of God. With an orphaned heart, which has lost the greatest of fathers, he stands mourning by the immeasurable corpse of nature, no longer moved or sustained by the Spirit of the universe, but growing in its grave; and he mourns, until he himself crumbles away from the dead body. 1. RICHTER—Flower, Fruit, and Thorn

Pieces. First Flower Piece.


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Great albatross the meanest birds

Spring up and flit away, While thou must toil to gain a flight,

And spread those pinions grey; But when they once are fairly poised,

Far o'er each chirping thing
Thou sailest wide to other lands,

E'en sleeping on the wing.
a. LELAND- Perseverando.


The sun was set; the night came on a pace,
And falling dews bewet around the place,
The bat takes airy rounds on leathern wings,
And the hoarse owl his woeful dirges sings.
b. Gay-Shepherd's Week. Wednesday;

or, The Dumps.

Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight.

Macbeth. Act III. Sc. 2.

How sweet the harmonies of the afternoon!

The Blackbird sings along the sunny breeze His ancient song of leaves, and summer boon; Rich breath of hayfields streams thro'

whispering trees; And birds of morning trim their bustling

wings, And listen fondly--while the Blackbird sings. i. FREDERICK TENNYSONThe Blackbird.

St. 1. BLUEBIRD. “So the Bluebirds have contracted, have

they, for a house? And a nest is under way for little Mr.

Wren? Hush, dear, hush! Be quiet, dear; quiet as These are weighty secrets, and we must

whisper them." j. SUSAN COOLIDGE-Secrets. In the thickets and the meadows Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa, On the summit of the lodges Sang the robin, the Opechee.

k. LONGFELLOW-- Hiawatha. Pt. XXI.

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BEACH-BIRD. Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea, Why takest thou its melancholy voice,

And with that boding cry

Along the breakers fly? d. DANA- The Little Beach-Bird.



And from each hill let music thrill
Give my fair love good morrow,
Blackbird and thrush in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow.

The birds have ceased their songs,
All save the blackbird, that from yon tall

ash, 'Mid Pinkie's greenery, from his mellow

throat, In adoration of the setting sun, Chants forth his evening hymn.

f. Moir-An Evening Sketch. A slender young Blackbird built in a thorn

tree: A spruce little fellow as ever could be; His bill was so yellow, his feathers so black, So long was his tail, and so glossy his back, That good Mrs. B., who sat hatching her And only just left them to stretch her poor

legs, And pick for a minute the worm she preferred, Thought

there never was seen such a beautiful bird. D. M. MULock—The Blackbird and

the Rooks. O Blackbird! sing me something well:

While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell. The espaliers and the standards all Are thine: the range of lawn and park:

The unnetted black-hearts ripen dark, All thine against the garden wall.

TENNISON—The Blackbird.

BOBOLINK. Modest and shy as a nun is she;

One weak chirp is her only note; Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,

Pouring boasts from his little throat.

I. BRYANT-- Robert of Lincoln. Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest,

Wearing a bright black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders and white his crest.

BRYANT--Robert of Lincoln. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,

Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband


BRYANT-Robert of Lincoln. The broad blue mountains lift their brows

Barely to bathe them in the blaze; The bobolinks from silence rouse

And flash along melodious ways! 0. HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD

Daybreak. CANARY. Thou should'st be carolling thy Maker's

praise, Poor bird! now fetter'd, and here set to draw, With graceless toil of beak and added claw, The meagre food that scarce thy want allays! And this--to gratify the gloating gaze Of fools, who value Nature not a straw, But know to prize the iniraction of her law And hard perversion of her creature's ways! Thee the wild woods await, in leaves attired, Where notes of liquid utterance should enThy biil, that now with pain scant forage earns. P. JULIAN FANE-Poems. Second Edition, with Additional Poems. To a

Canary Bird.




Sing away, ay, sing away,

Merry little bird
Always gayest of the gay,
Though a woodland roundelay

You ne'er sung nor heard ;
Though your life from youth to age
Passes in a narrow cage.
D. M. MULOCK--The Canary in his


List-'twas the Cuckoo. O with what delight Heard I that voice ! and catch it now, though

faint, Far off and faint, and melting into air, Yet not to be mistaken. Hark again! Those louder cries give notice that the Bird, Although invisible as Echo's self, Is wheeling hitherward.

WORDSWORTH The Cuckoo at Laverna. O blithe New-comer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice; O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice?

WORDSWORTH- To the Cuckoo.

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Good-morrow to thy sable beak,
And glossy plumage, dark and sleek;
Thy crimson morn and azure eye--
Cock of the heath, so wildly shy !
b. JOANNA BAILLIE-- The Black Cock.

St. 1.

Cygnets following through the foamy wake,
Picking the leaves of plants, pursuing in-

MONTGOMERY– Pelican Island,

Canto IV. Line 236.

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding

throat Awake the God of day.

Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 1.

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The early village cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn.

d. Richard III. Act V. Sc. 3.

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death;
And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.

p. King John. Act V. Sc. 7.

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Oh! when 'tis summer weather,
And the yellow bee, with fairy sound,
The waters clear is humming round,
And the cuckoo sings unseen,
And the leaves are waving green--

Oh! then 'tis sweet,

In some retreat, To hear the murmuring dove, With those whom on earth alone we love, And to wind through the greenwood together. 9.

BOWLES—The Greenwood. The dove returning bore the mark Of earth restored to the long labouring ark; The relics of mankind, secure of rest, Oped every window to receive the guest, And the fair bearer of the message bless'd. DRYDEN— To Her Grace of Ormond.

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“Cuckoo-Cuckoo!" no other note,
She sings from day to day;
But I, though a poor cottage-girl,
Can work, and read, and pray.

i. BOWLES-Spring. Cuckoo. St. 2. The Attic warbler pours her throat. Responsive to the cuckoo's note.

j. GRAY-Ode on the Spring. Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year.

k. JOHN LOGANTo the Cuckoo. The Cuckoo then on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he,

Cuckoo! Cuckoo! O word of fear,
Unpleasing to married ear.

I. Love's Labour's Lost. Act. V. Sc. 2.

Listen, sweet Dove, unto my song, And spread thy golden wings on me;

Hatching my tender heart so long, Till it get wing, and flie away with thee.

HERBERT- The Church. Whitsunday. See how that pair of billing doves With open murmurs own their loves; And, heedless of censorious eyes, Pursue their unpolluted joys: No fears of future want molest The downy quiet of their nest. t. LADY MONTAGU--Verses. Written in

a Garden. St. 1.

The Dove, On silver pinions, wing'd her peaceful way. MONTGOMERY— Pelican Island.

Canto I. Line 173.

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The dove and very blessed spirit of peace.

Henry IV. Pt. II. Act IV. Sc. 1. I heard a stock-dove sing or say His homely tale this very day; His voice was buried among trees, Yet to be come-at by the breeze: He did not cease; but cooed--and cooed; And somewhat pensively he wooed: He sang of love, with quiet blending, Slow to begin, and never ending; Of serious faith, and inward glee; That was the song, --the song

for me! d. WORDSWORTH. - Nightingale! Thou

Surely Art.


But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.

1. Timon of Athens. Act I. Sc. 1. I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd From the spungy south to this part of the

west, There vanish'd in the sunbeams.

Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2. The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby.

Titus Andronicus. Act IV. Sc. 4. Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling With clang of wings and scream, the Eagle

sailed Incessantly. SHELLEY---Revolt of Islam. Canto I.

St. 10. He clasps the crag with hooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls: He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls. p.

TENNYSON--The Eagle. Shall eagles not be eagles ? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.

9. TENNYSONThe Golden Year. Line 37. The eagle, with wings strong and free, Builds her home with the flags in the tower

ing crags That o'erhang the white foam of the sea.

John H. YATES--A Song of Home.



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So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quivered in his

BYRON--English Bards and Scotch

Reviewers. Line 826.

Tho' he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,

That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion

Thro' the azure deep of air. f. GRAY--The Progress of Poesy. The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his airy tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove. 9. MILTON—Paradise Lost. Bk. XI.

Line 184. Bird of the broad and sweeping wing,

Thy home is high in heaven,
Where wide the storm their banners fling,

And the tempest clouds are driven,

h. PERCIVAL, The Eagle. So in the Libyan fable it is told That once an eagle, stricken with a dart, Said when he saw the fashion of the shaft, “With our own feathers, not by other's hands Are we now smitten."

i. PLUMPTRE's Aeschylus. Fragm. 123. Little eagles wave their wings in goldj. POPE--Moral Essays. Ep. V.

Line 30. All furnish'd, all in arms; All plum'd, like estridges that with the wind Bated,-like eagles having lately bath'd; Glittering in golden coats, like images.

k. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act IV. Sc. 1.

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I know a falcon swift and peerless

As e'er was cradled in the pine;
No bird had ever eye so fearless,

Or wing so strong as this of mine.

t. LOWELL- The Falcon. Will the falcon, stooping from above, Smit with her varying plumage, spare the

dove? Admires the jay the insect's gilded wings ? Or hears the hawk when Philomela sings? POPE—Essay on Man. Ep. III.

Line 53 A falcon tow'ring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.

Macbeth. Act II. Sc. 4.


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