286 BIRDS AND MAN 



our poets has properly appreciated that the singer 

 who never stops, but, " pleased with his own 

 monotony," shakes off the rain and sings on in a mood 

 of cheerfulness dashed with melancholy : 



And there he is within the rain, 

 And beats and beats his tune again, 

 Quite happy in himself. 



Within the heart of this great shower 

 He sits, as in a secret bower, 

 With curtains drawn about him : 

 And, part in duty, part in mirth, 

 He beats, as if upon the earth 

 Rain could not fall without him. 



I remember that W. E. Henley once took me 

 severely to task on account of some jeering remarks 

 made about our poet's way of treating the birds and 

 their neglect of so many of our charming singers. 

 In the course of our correspondence he questioned me 

 about the cirl bunting, that lively singer and pretty 

 first cousin of the yellow hammer ; and after I had 

 supplied him with full information, he informed me 

 that it was his intention to write a poem on that 

 bird, and that he would be the first English poet to 

 sing the cirl bunting. 



He never wrote that lyric, " part in duty, part in 

 mirth " ; he was then near his end. 



