THE GOLDEN-CHESTED WREN. 67 



birds, kindly sits by her side, and sings her his 

 sweetest songs. When she is obliged to quit 

 the nest in search of food, he takes her place, and 

 keeps the eggs warm till her return. 



THE GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN. 



Gem-like bird, with thy golden crest, 

 Like lovely visions rarely seen, 



Seldom we find thy place of rest, 

 Shrouded beneath the foliage green. 



'Mid the dark groves of fir and pine, 

 Where chiefly thou lovest to d well* 



Sweet is that fairy note o f thine, 

 As the chime of a silver bell ; 



That gently tells in a season of flowers, 



Of the rapid flight of the pleasant hours ; 



And a single leaf of the forest tree, 



Will serve as a sheltering screen for thee ; 



Concealing thee safely from every eye, 



Until danger and fear have pass'd thee by. 



Small as thou art, thou gem-like biid, 



Yet thou hast made thy nest on high ; 

 And there thy warbling voice is heard, 



Singing thy children's lullaby. 

 Lovely bird, with thy golden crown, 



A kind and tender nurse art thou, 

 Making thy nest of moss and down, 



And hanging it on the bending bough. 



