32

BIRDS-ROOK.

BIRDS-SWALLOW.

The sparrows chirped as if they still were

proud Their race in Holy Writ should mentioned

be. i, LONGFELLOW-The Birds of

Killingworth. St. 2.

a.

The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, That it had its head bit off by its young.

King Lear. Act I. Sc. 4.

Behold, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight.

k. WORDSWORTH, The Sparrow's Nest.

c.

SWALLOW.

ROOK. Those Rooks, dear, from morning till night They seem to do nothing but quarrel and

fight, And wrangle and jangle, and plunder, D. M. MULOCK-- Thirty Years. The.

Blackbird and the Rooks. The building rook'ill caw from the windy

tall elm-tree. b. TENNYSON--The May Queen. Nera

Year's Eve. The rook who high amid the boughs In early Spring, his airy city builds, And ceaseless caws amusive. THOMSON- The Seasons. Spring.

Line 765. SEA-BIRD. Hush! a young sea-bird floats, and that

quick cry Shrieks to the levelled weapon's echoing

sound: Grasp its lank wing, and on, with reckless

bound ! Yet, creature of the surf, a sheltering breast To-night shall haunt in vain thy far-off

nest, A call unanswered search the rocky ground. d. HAWKER--Records of the Western Shore.

Pater Vester Pascit Illa. Between two seas the sea-bird's wing makes

halt, Wind-weary; while with lifting head he

waits For breath to reinspire him from the gates That open still toward sunrise on the vault High-domed of morning.

SWINBURNE--Songs of the Spring-Tides.

e

When Jesus hung upon the cross
The birds, 'tis said, bewailed the loss
Of Him who first to mortals taught,
Guiding with love the life of all,
And heeding e'en the sparrows' iall.
But, as old Swedish legends say,
Of all the birds upon that day,
The swallow felt the deepest grief,
And longed to give her Lord relief,
And chirped when any near would come,
• Hugswala swala swal honom!'
Meaning, as they who tell it deem,
Oh, cool, ol, cool and comfort Him!

LELAND--The Swallow.

SEDGE-BIRD. Fixed in a white-thorn bush, its summer

guest, So low, e'en grass o'er-topped its tallest twig, A sedge-bird built its little benty nest, Close by the meadow pool and wooden brig. f. CLARE--The Rural Muse. Poems.

The Sedge-Bird's Nest.

n.

SPARROW.
Blithe wanderer of the wintry air,
Now here, now there, now everywhere,

Quick drifting to and fro,
A cheerful life devoid of care,

A shadow on the snow. 9. GEORGE W. BUNGAY—The English

Sparrow. In thy own serinon, thou That the sparrow falls dost allow, It shall not cause me any alarm, For neither so comes the bird to harm, Seeing our Father, thou hast said, Is by the sparrow's dying bed; Therefore it is a blessed place, And the sparrow in high grace. ho GEORGE MacDONALD— Paul Faber.

Consider the Ravens. Ch. XXI.

It's surely summer, for there's a swallow:
Come one swallow, his mate will follow,
The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.
p. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI-A Bird Song.

St. 2.

There goes the swallow,--
Could we but follow!

Hasty swallow stay,

Point us out the way; Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop

swallow. 9. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI — Songs in a

Cornfield. St. 7.

The swallow twitters about the eaves;

Blithely she sings, and sweet, and clear; Around her climb the woodbine leaves In a golden atmosphere. CELIA THAXTER—The Swallow. St. 1.

The swallow sweeps The slimy pool, to build his hanging house. b. THOMSON—The Seasons. Spring.

Line 651.

C.

n.

e.

SWAN. and over the pond are sailing

Two swans all white as snow; Sweet voices mysteriously wailing

Pierce through me as onward they go.
They sail along, and a ringing

Sweet melody rises on high,
And when the swans begin singing,
They presently must die.
HEINE-Early Poems. Evening,

Songs. No. 2. The swan in the pool is singing,

And up and down doth he steer,
And, singing gently ever,

Dips under the water clear.
d. HEINE--Book of Songs. Lyrical

Interlude No. 64.
The swan, like the soul of the poet,
By the dull world is ill understood.
HEINE-Early Poems. Evening Songs.

No. 3. The swan with arched neck Between her white wings mantling proudly,

rows Her state with oary feet. f MILTON— Paradise Lost. Bk. VII.

Line 438. The white swan, as he lies on the wet grass,

when the Fates summon him, sing at the fords of

Mæander. g. RILEY's Ovid. Ep. VII. All the water in the ocean, Can Dever turn a swan's black legs to white, Although she lave them hourly in the flood. h. Titus Andronicus. Act IV. Sc. 2.

I have seen a swan With bootless labour swim against the tide, And spend her strength with over-matching

i. Henry VI. Pt. III. Act. I. Sc. 4. The swan's down feather, That stands upon the swell at full of tide, And neither way inclines. Antony and Cieopatra. Act III.

Sc. 2. The stately-sailing swan Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale; And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier

isle, Protective of his young. k. THOMSON — The Seasons. Spring.

Line 775.

I said to the brown, brown Thrush:

“Hush-hush! Through the wood's full strains I hear Thy monotone deep and clear,

Like a sound amid sounds most fine." 0. D. M. MULOCK-A Rhyme About Birds.

There the thrushes Sing till latest sunlight flushes In the west. p. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI—Sound Sleep.

St. 2. When rosy plumelets tuft the larch, And rarely pipes the mounted thrush. 9

TENNYSON-In Memoriam. Pt. XC. At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight

appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung

for three years. 1.

WORDSWORTH — Reverie of Poor Susan.

waves.

WHIP-POOR-WILL. All day in silence thou dost hide, At eve thy call is drifted wide, Scarce melody, a tender trill, And sad, oh, strange, wild whip-poor-will. MARIE LE BARON- The Whip-Poor.

Vill. Where deep and misty shadows float In forests depths is heard thy note. Like a lost spirit, earthbound still, Art thou, mysterious whip-poor-will. t. MARIE LE BARON--The Whip-Poor

Will. But the whip-poor-will wails on the moor,

And day has deserted the west: The moon glimmers down thro' the vines at

my door

And the robin has flown to her nest.

JAMES G. CLARKE--The Wood-Robin.

34

BIRDS-WHITE-THROAT.

BLESSINGS.

WHITE-THROAT. The happy white-throat on the swaying

bough, Rocked by the impulse of the gadding wind That ushers in the showers of April, now Carols right joyously; and now reclined, Crouching, she clings close to her moving

seat, To keep her hold. CLARE- The Rural Muse. Poems.

The Happy Bird.

WREN.
I took the wren's nest;-
Heaven forgive me!
Its merry architects so small
Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
That, empty still, and neat and fair,
Hung idly in the summer air.

b. D. M. MULOCK- The Wren's Nest.

Among the dwellings framed by birds

In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little Wren's

In spugness may compare. d. WORDSWORTH-A Wren's Nest.

a.

BIRTHDAY. My birthday !--"How many years ago ?

Twenty or thirty ?" Don't ask me! “Forty or fifty ?"--How can I tell? I do not remember my birth, you see !

JULIA C. R. DORR--My Birthday.

Believing hear, what you deserve to hear: Your birthday, as my own, to me is dear. Blest and distinguish'd days! which we

should prize The first, the kindest, bounty of the skies. But yours gives most; for mine did only lend Me to the world, yours gave to me a friend.

I. MARTIAL-IX. 53.

Every anniversary of a birthday is the dispelling of a dream.

ZSCHOKKE.

A birthday :-and now a day that rose

With much of hope, with meaning rifeA thoughtful day from dawn to close:

The middle day of human life. g. JEAN INGELOW-A Birthday Walk.

m.

n.

I am old, so old, I can write a letter;

My birthday lessons are done;
The lambs play always, they know no better;

They are only one times one.
h JEAN INGELOW--Songs of Seven.

Seven Times One.

0.

Show me your nest with the young ones in it;

I will not steal them away;
I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet-

I am seven times one to-day.
i. JEAN INGELOW-Songs of Seven.

Seven Times One.

BLESSINGS. 'Tis not for mortals always to be blest. ARMSTRONG—Act of Preserving Health.

Bk, IV. Line 260. Blessings star forth forever; but a curse Is ke a cloud-it passes. BAILEY--Festus. Sc. Hades.

Blest Is he whose heart is the home of the great

dead, And their great thoughts.

p. BAILEY- Festus. Sc. A Village Feast. God bless you! I have nothing to tell, sir. 9. CANNING- The Friend of Humanity

and the Knife-Grinler. For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, And though a late, a sure reward succeeds. CONGREVE--The Mourning Bride.

Act V. Sc. 7. What is remote and difficult of success we are apt to overrate; what is really best for us lies always within our reach, though often overlooked.

LONGFELLOW--Kavanagh. Ch. XXX A man's best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet. t. Rich. MONCKTON MILNES— The Men of

old.

As this auspicious day began the race
Of ev'ry virtue join'd with ev'ry grace;
May you, who own them, welcome its return,
Till excellence, like yours, again is born.
The years we wish, will half your charms

impair; The years we wish, the better half will spare, The victims of your eyes will bleed no more, But all the beauties of your mind adore. jo JEFFERY Miscellanies. To a Lady

on her Birthday.

s.

This is my birthday, and a happier one was never mine. k. LONGFELLOW- The Divine Tragedy.

The Second Passover. Pt. II.

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very Heaven !

WORDSWORTH-The Prelude. Bk. XL

m.

The blest to-day is as completely so,
As who began a thousand years ago.

POPE--Essay on Man. Ep. I. Line 75. God bless the King! God bless the faith's

defender! God bless--No harm in blessing the Pre

tender, Who that Pretender is, and who that

King-
God bless us all !--Is quite another thing.

b. Scorr --Redgauntlet. Ch. VII. Jove bless thee, master parson.

Twelfth Night. Act IV. Sc. 2. The benediction of these covering heavens Fall on their heads like dew.

d. Cymbeline. Act V. Sc. 5. Like birds, whose beauties languish half con

cealed, Till, mounted on the wing, their glossy

plumes Expanded, shine with azure, green and gold; How blessings brighten as they take their

flight.
YOUNG_Night Thoughts. Night II.

Line 599.

c.

BLINDNESS. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrevocably dark! total eclipse, Without one hope of day.

f. MILTON--Samson Agonistes. Line 80. He that is stricken blind, cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. g. Romeo and Juliet. Act I.Sc. 1.

And when a damp Pell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet, whence he

blew Soul-animating strains--alas, too few! ኤ h. WORDSWORTH-Scorn not the Sonnet;

Critic, you have Frowned.

BLISS.
Vain, very vain, my weary search to find
That bliss which only

centres in the mind. i. GOLDSMITI -- The Traveller.

Line 423. The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe. j. GRAY-Ode on the Pleasure arising

from Vicissitude. Line 45. But such a sacred and home-felt delight, Such sober certainty of waking bliss, I never heard till now.

k. MILTON—Comus. Line 262. I know I am-that simplest bliss The millions of my brothers miss. I know the fortune to be born, Even to the meanest wretch they scorn. I. BAYARD TAYLOR-Prince Denkalion.

Act IV.

I have no one to blush with me, To cross their arms and hang their heads with

mine.
The Rape of Lucrece. Line 792.

I will go wash; And when my face is fair, you

ceive Whether I blush or no.

Coriolanus. Act I. Sc. 9. Prolixious blushes that banish what they

ball per

2.

sue for.

y. Measure for Measure. Act II. Sc. 4. Two red fires in both their faces blazed; She thought he blush'd, And blushing with him, wistly on him

gazed. 2. The Rape of Lucrece. Line 1354.