236 MUSIC OF THE GROVE. 



around him. His heart expands as he views the 

 many gifts bestowed upon man, some for his use, 

 others for his gratification. If he walks in a shady 

 grove at this season of the year, he is ready to 

 exclaim 



Here softest beauties open to my view : 



Here many a flow'r expands its blushing charms ; 



Here the thick foliage wears a greener hue, 

 And lofty trees extend their leafy arms : 



All things conspire to deck the milder scene, 

 f And nature's gentlest form here smiles serene. 



Each feather'd songster here with chauntings gay, 

 Full sweetly wakes the ' incense breathing morn,' 



And here the nightingale, with warbling lay, 

 Full sweetly hails the evening's lov'd return. 



That heart whom this soft music cannot move, 



Is deaf to pity, and is dead to love. 



The music of the grove is, indeed, one of the 

 greatest charms of a walk through some open 

 glade, or shady coppice, during a smiling day in 

 Spring, when the birds, as our good father, Isaac 

 Walton, remarks, " seem to have a friendly con- 

 tention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed to 

 live in a hollow tree." Here, one of my favourite 

 birds, the speckled Thrush, may be heard. 



Sweet thrush ! whose wild untutor'd strain 



Salutes the opening year, 

 Renew those melting notes again, 



And sooth>my ravish'd ear. 



