

T8 TREATISE ON 



By winding Ayr, or Lugar's stream, 



Where thrush and merle the green woods throng, 



Oft have I paused at day's last beam^ 



To hear the wood-lark's plaintive song ; 



Now swelling on the evening breeze, 



Now lost upon the list'ning ear,— 



Soft mingling with the rustling trees, 



Or with the streamlet murm'ring near. 



It seem'd as if some dirge it sung 



Of other times and happier hours; 



So sad, so sweet, the cadence rung 



Amid those wild and lonely bowers ' 



Anonymotis. 



THE WOODLARK. 



ALAUDA ARBOREA; LINNiEUS. l'aLOUETTE DE 



BOIS : BUFFON. 



This charming bird, so deservedly esteemed for 

 its song, is, by some, thought nearly equal to the 

 nightingale, while others prefer it to that bird. 

 Its warble certainly possesses most of the qualities 



