184 THE WOOD-GROUSE. 



some were sent to a gentleman near Bristol, who 

 presented a fine pair of each to the Philosophical 

 Institution in that city, as a valuable addition to 

 the treasures of the museum, where they may 

 now be seen. 



THE SONG OF THE WOOD-GROUSE. 



You must look for me 



On my mountain tree, 

 Where the hardy pine uncultured grows, 

 Where the foaming torrent wildly flows $ 



There look for me, 



On my mountain tree, 

 With my clarion note he-de-he-de-hc. 



Where the sun's bright ray, 



Doth earliest play, 



Flinging his beams on the mountain side ; 

 There in my chosen retreat I abide : 



And the rocks reply 



To my gathering cry, 

 As I sound my clarion notes on high. 



From the twilight grey, 



To the break of day, 



The woodland and cliffs to my notes resound, 

 While I call my companions to gather around. 



Then gaily I lead, 



Where safely they feed, 

 And my gathering cry no longer they need. 



