loo Four -in-Hand in Britain. 



of song poured forth as we stood wrapt awaiting the 

 descent of the messenger from heaven. At last a small 

 black speck came into sight. He is so little to see — so 

 great to hear ! 



I know several fine things about the famous song- 

 ster: 



" In the golden lightning 



Of the sunken sun, 

 O'er which clouds are bright'ning, 

 Thou dost float and run, 

 Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun." 



An " unbodied joy ! " that's a hit, surely ! 



Here is Browning on the thrush, which I think 

 should be to the lark : 



" He sings each song twice over. 

 Lest you should think he never could recapture 

 The first fine careless rapture." 



The third is just thrown in by the prodigal hand of 

 genius in a poem not to a lark but to a daisy : 



" Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet. 

 The bonnie lark, companion meet. 

 Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet, 



Wi' speckl'd breast. 

 When upward springing, blithe, to greet 



The purpling east." 



How fine is Wordsworth's well known tribute : 



" Type of the wise, who soar but never roam. 

 True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home ! " 



