this country the latter end of June. See more of the cuckoo in T.T. for 1817, p. 113.

The other summer-birds of passage which arrive this month, make their appearance in the following order: the ring-ousel (turdus torquatus), the redstart (motacilla phoenicurus), frequenting old walls and ruinous edifices; the yellow wren (motacilla trochilus); the swift, already noticed; the whitethroat (motacilla sylva); the grasshopper lark (alauda trivialis), the smallest of the lark kind; and, lastly, the willow-wren, which frequents hedges and shrubberies, and feeds on insects, in search of which it is continually running up and down small branches of trees. The house-wren destroys many pernicious insects. The beauty, simplicity, and innocence of the winged tribes, attract particular regard and attention: we even converse with them, and address them in the language of benevolence.

Again the balmy zephyr blows,

Fresh verdure decks the groves;
Each bird with vernal rapture glows,
And tunes his notes to love.

Ye gentle warblers! bither fly,
And shun the noontide heat;
My shrubs a cooling shade supply,
My groves a safe retreat.

Here freely hop from spray to spray,
Or weave the mossy nest;

Here rove and sing the live-long day,

At night here sweetly rest.

Amidst this cool translucent rill

That trickles down the glade,

Here bathe your plumes-here drink your fill,
And revel in the shade.

No schoolboy rude to mischief prone

E'er shows his ruddy face,

Or twangs his bow or hurls a stone
In this sequestered place.

Hither the vocal thrush repairs,
Secure the linnet sings;

The goldfinch dreads no slimy snares
To clog her painted wings.

In a former volume (T.T. for 1816, p. 120) we have spoken at length on the nightingale and other birds of song, noticing the superiority of England in this respect over the continent of America. The observation is lately confirmed by Mr. Cobbett, in his Year's Residence in the United States of America," in a passage in which the politician has almost forgotten himself into poetry:-There are two things which I have not yet mentioned, and which are almost wholly wanting here, while they are so amply enjoyed in England, the singing-birds and the flowers. Here are many birds in summer, and some of very beautiful plumage. There are some wild flowers, and some English flowers in the best gardens; but, generally speaking, they are birds without song, and flowers without smell. The linnet (more than a thousand of which I have heard warbling upon one scrubbed oak on the sand hills in Surrey), the skylark, the goldfinch, the woodlark, the nightingale, the bullfinch, the blackbird, the thrush', and all the rest of the singing tribe, are wanting in these beautiful

1

Mr. Cobbett has, however, omitted to notice the mocking-thrush (see T.T. for 1816, p. 120), as well as numberless beautiful shrubs, peculiar to some parts of the new contineut.

woods and orchards of garlands. When these latter have dropped their bloom, all is gone in the flowery way. No shepherd's rose, no honeysuckle, none of that endless variety of beauties that decorate the hedges and the meadows in England. No daisies, no primroses, no cowslips, no blue-bells, no daffodils, which, as if it were not enough for them to charm the sight and the smell, must have names, too, to delight the ear. All these are wanting in America.'

A contemporary writer, comparing the songs of nature with those of the opera, beautifully observes:The opera-singer sings to please the audience, not herself, and does not always like to be encored in it; but the thrush, that awakes at daybreak with its song, does not sing, because it is paid to sing or to please others, or to be admired or criticised. It sings because it is happy: it pours the thrilling sounds from its throat, to relieve the overflowings of its own heart-the liquid notes come from and go to the heart, dropping balm into it, as the gushing spring revives the traveller's parched and fainting lips. That stream of joy comes pure and fresh to the longing sense, free from art and affectation; the same that rises over vernal groves, mingled with the breath of morning, and the perfumes of the wild hyacinth, that waits for no audience, that wants no rehearsing, that exhausts its raptures, and still

Hymns its good God, and carols sweet of love.'

The tenants of the air are, in this month, busily employed in forming their temporary habitations, and in rearing and maintaining their offspring.-See our last volume, p. 104-106*.

'On seeing a Boy with a BIRD'S NEST.
Yon feathered pair, how blest are they!
Their snug retreat no fears molest,
Until the schoolboy strolls that way,
And fills with pain each parent's breast,

About the middle of this month, the bittern (ardea stellaris) makes a hollow booming noise during the night in the breeding season, from its swampy retreats. Towards the end of the month, the blackcap (motacilla atricapilla), called, in Norfolk, the mocknightingale, begins its song.

Plovers' eggs now come into season, and are exhibited in small baskets, laid in moss, in the shops of fishmongers and poulterers.

The progress of vegetation is general and rapid in this month. The blossoms of trees present to the eye a most agreeable spectacle, particularly in those counties which abound with orchards. The blackthorn (prunus spinosa) is the first that puts forth its flowers; a host of others follow, among which may be named the ash (Fraxinus excelsior), ground-ivy (glecoma hederacea), the box-tree (buxus sempervirens), the pear-tree (pyrus communis), the apricot, the peach, nectarine, the wild and garden cherry, and the plum; gooseberry and currant trees; the hawthorn (crataegus oxycantha), the apple tree (pyrus malus sativus), and the sycamore (acer pseudo-platanus).

With anxious look the nest he 'spies,
And from the bush the young he tears,
Though each fond parent's plaintive cries
Earnestly beg him to forbear.

Flying around his thoughtless head,
They follow him with mournful strain,
Pining for those they've hatched and fed;
But all their cries, alas! are vain.

Rejoicing o'er his callow prize-
The parent birds their loss deplore-
With hasty step from them he hies;
And they behold their young no more!
Unfeeling boy, whoe'er thou art,
In future from such deeds refrain;
Let pity dwell within thy heart,
And never give another pain.

On observing a FRUIT TREE in BLOOM.
Awake, thou sleeper, view the budding spray,
Its bloom unfolding to the light of day;
Delightful woody garland of the year.
Oh! cursive fancy, be by reason led-
Where are thy phantom hopes?-what, are they fled?
Ah! trembling passions, coolly bid me hear.

Here, nature cries, this must for ever be

Ere the ripe fruit makes known the doubtful tree:
Know, too, the bud of Grace must break with care,
That angels pure may see Faith's harmless bloom
Mature to fruit of duty on the tomb,

And thou in CHRIST triumphing o'er despair.

The elm (ulmus campestris), the beech (fagus sylvatica), and the larch (pinus-larix rubra), are now in full leaf.

Many and lovely are the flowers which are showered, in profusion, from the lap of April: among them may be named the jonquil, anemoné, ranunculus, polyanthus, and the crown-imperial. Other flowers which adorn our fields, at this time, are the checquered daffodil (fritillaria meleagris); the primrose; the cowslip (primula veris); the lady-smock (cardamine pratensis); and the hare-bell (hyacinthus non scriptus). The yellow star of Bethlehem (ornithogalum luteum) in woods; the vernal squill (scilla verna) among maritime rocks; and the wood sorrel (oxalis acetosella), are now in full flower.

Various kinds of insects are now scen sporting in the sun-beams,' and living their 'little hour.' The jumping spider (aranea scenica) is seen on garden walls; and the webs of other species of spiders

* This is sometimes called cuckoo-flower. Shakspeare, in the song introduced into Love's Labour Lost,' notices the lady-smock, and the 'cuckoo bud of yellow hue,' which is probably the crowfoot or buttercup.

When daisies pied and violets blue,

And lady-smocks all silver white,

And cuckoo buds of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows with delight.