I ^ THE BELL-BIRD. 35 



/^almost the whole of animated nature, the cam- 

 panero still cheers the forest. You hear his 

 toll, and then a pause for a minute ; then an- 

 other toll, and then a pause again ; and then a 

 toll, and again a pause. Then he is silent for 

 six or eight minutes, and then another toll, and 

 so on. Acteon would stop in mid chase, Maria 

 would defer her evening song, and Orpheus 

 himself would drop his lute, to listen to him so 

 sweet, so novel, and romantic, is the toll of the 

 pretty snow-white campanero."* 



THE CAMPANERO, OR BELL-BIRD. 



The morning light is round me spread, 

 And I must quit my forest bed. 

 A thousand strains of varied song 

 Are floating forth these shades among, 

 Arid seem as hymns of praise, to rise 

 In one full chorus to the skies. 

 And hark ! a welcome sound I hear, 

 The matin-bell is chiming clear 

 Ah ! I hear it toll again 

 It is the campanero's strain, 



From the lofty mora tree, 



Tolling loud and solemnly. 



It stirs the pilgrim's heart to rise, 

 And yield his morning sacrifice 

 To Him who kept him thro' the night, 

 And brings again the morning light. 



* See Waterton's Wanderings. 



