4 o 4 NETHER LOCH A BE R. 



How I wad mourn when it was torn 



By autumn wild, and winter rude ! 

 But I wad sing on wanton wing 



When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd. 



Oh, gin my love were yon red rose, 



That grows upon the castle wa', 

 And I myseP a drap o' dew, 



Into her bonnie breast to fa' ! 



Oh ! there, beyond expression blest, 



I'd feast on beauty a' the night ; 

 Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest, 



Till fleyed awa' by Phrebus' light." 



Cunningham's ornithological objection to the song we believe to be 

 well founded ; and it is not a little to his credit, as proving what 

 a close and clear observer of the habits of our song-birds he must 

 have been, that he was the first, so far as we know, to notice how 

 reluctant they are to have anything to do with the lilac while in 

 flower, though at other seasons they perch upon it as freely as upon 

 other shrubs. We are not as sure, however, that our song-birds 

 object to the lilac because of anything disagreeable to them in the 

 perfume of its flowers. Except in the case of some of the Raptores, 

 birds as a rule are neither acute nor delicate of smell, our little 

 song-birds least of all perhaps. We rather think the reason of 

 their dislike to it is to be found, partly at least, if not wholly, 

 in the fact that while it is in flower, its bark, particularly along 

 the smaller branches and twigs, is covered with a slimy secretion 

 or exudation at once viscid and acrid ; and if there is one thing 

 more than another which our wild-birds unanimously and with all 

 their hearts detest, it is to have their legs or toes come in contact 

 with anything glutinous or " sticky." Every bird-fancier knows 

 how uncomfortable and generally miserable is a bird just upon 

 being taken off a limed twig ; not, observe, because he is a captive 

 thoughts of that may trouble him afterwards but immediately 

 and in the first instance because of the bird-lime about his toes. 



