240 MUSIC OF THE GROVE. 



. Where the young leaves unfolding, scarce conceal 

 Beneath their early shade the half-formed nest 



Of finch or wood-lark ; and the primrose pale, 

 And lavish cowslip, wildly scatter'd round, 



Give their sweet spirits to the sighing gale. 

 Ah, season of delight thy prospect fair, 

 Thy sounds of harmony, thy balmy air, 

 Have power to cure all sadness but despair. 



Her sonnet also on the departure of the Night- 

 ingale is full of beauty and feeling. 



Sweet poet of the woods a long adieu ! 



Farewell, soft minstrel of the early year ! 

 Ah ! 'twill be long ere thou shalt sing anew, 



And pour thy music on the night's dull ear. 

 Whether on Spring thy wandering flights await, 



Or whether silent in our groves you dwell, 

 The pensive muse shall own thee for her mate, 



And still protect the song she loves so well. 

 With cautious step the love-lorn youth shall glide 



Through the lone brake that shades thy mossy nest, 

 And shepherd girls from eyes profane shall hide 



The gentle bird, who sings of pity best ; 

 For still thy voice shall soft affections move, 



And still be dear to sorrow and to love. 



Nor were our early poets indifferent to the 

 charms of Spring and the song of birds. Henry 

 Howard, Earl of Surrey, has thus described both. 



The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings, 

 With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale : 



The nightingale with feathers new she sings ; 

 The turtle to her mate hath told her tale : 



