INTRODUCTION. 



The heart is hard in nature and unfit 

 For human fellf)wship, as bein^ void 

 Of sympathy, that is not pleased 

 Witli sight of animals enjoying life. 

 Nor feels that happiness augment his own. 



COWPER. 



What tongue can tell 

 The mingled melodies, that mount and swell, 

 And float upon the flowery-scented gale, 

 'Wakening sweet echoes through the verdant vale ! 

 Yet not the feeblest note of forest bird 

 E'en by the brink of woodland waters heard, 

 Nor loudest clarion that salutes the morn, 

 But has some note of gladness still upborne ; 

 A hymn of gratitude for life and light, 

 To the clear heavens fresh opening on the sight. 



Ellis. 



I heard a thousand blended notes, 

 While in a grove I sat reclined. 

 In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts 

 Bring sad thoughts to the wind. 



To her fair work did Nature link 

 The human soul that through me ran ; 

 So much it grieved my heart to think 

 What man has made of man. 



WORDSWOETH. 



Birds ! birds ! ye are beautiful things. 



With your earth -treading feet and your cloud-cleaving wings ! 



Where shall man wander, and where shall he dwell, 



Beautiful birds, that ye come nut as well ? 



Ye have nests on the moiintain all rugged and stark, 



Ye have nests in the forest all tangled and dark ; 



Ye build and ye brood 'neath the cottagers eaves, 



And ye sleep on the sod 'mid the bonnie green leaves ; 



Ye hide in the heather, ye lurk in the brake. 



Ye dive in the sweet flags that shadow the lake ; 



Ye skim where the sti'eam parts the orchard-deck 'd land, 



Ye dance where the foam sweeps the desolate strand ; 



Beautiful birds ! ye come thickly around. 



When the bud's on the branch, and the snow's on the ground 



Ye come when the richest of roses flush out. 



And ye come when the yellow leaf eddies about. 



Eliza Cook. 



