44 BISHOP TEGNff.R. 



The victor's snug 



.Siimids now : lie will not trium|ili lonj;. 



He boasts of deeds of glory done 



For his dear lo\ e, while iu the toue 



The songster's i-age is still expressed ; 



But, in his loving lireast, 



Rage cannot last ; 



Already is it jiast. 



Hark '. how the melody outpouring 



Seems to decay, 



And melts away. 



Sweetly for love imploring ; 



And, in complaining longing sighs, 



Softly dies. 



Hunter ! be quick, observe the tone; 



Steal along. 



While swells the song, 



Sight and hearing then are gone : 



But, when he holds his warbling breath, 



Crouch down, as low, as still as death. 



Heed not that the swamp is deep, 



Through tlic marshes you must creep ; 



If the victor you would win. 



Get your rifle's range within. 



Fii-e ! 



Hushed is the song, dispersed the choir, 



And in the wai-bler's heart the lead. 



But he died without a Jiang, 



Fondest loved, and sweetest sang, 



Happy dead ! 



Many Capercali are also shot duriug the autumn to 

 the Stund-IIimd, or pointer, iu the midland and southern 

 parts of Scandinavia, and in what we in England should 

 call a sportsmanlike manner. In the far north that 

 description of dog is hardly known, even by name. 



