A POEM. 91 



Of them, as far at least as moulting goes ; 



Their feathers to the colour of the snows 



Are always chang'd their plumage thick and warm, 



That thro' the winter they may take no harm. 



For a long time, erroneously, 'twas thought, 



Till by dissection the real fact was sought, 



That the bay feathers which a horse-shoe form 



Upon their breasts, the cock's alone adorn : 



But the superior brightness of his head 



Is now the sole criterion instead. 



If from their parents you the young would sort, 



Let but the under mandible support 



The bird's whole weight ; if it unbroken stays, 



Beyond one winter they've prolong'd their days ; 



But should it rend, the circumstance makes clear, 



They into being came, the present year. 



Long 'fore the thund'ring gun, which deals out 



death 

 Now 'mongst them singly, coveys whole beneath 



