220 BIRDS AND MAN 



whose notes more readily lend themselves to this 

 childish fancy than the wood-pigeon, on account 

 of the depth and singularly human quality of its 

 voice. The song is a passionate complaint. One 

 can fancy the human-hke feathered creature in 

 her green bower, pleading, upbraiding, lamenting; 

 and, Ustening, we will find lit easy enough to 

 put it all into plain language : 



O swear not you love me, for you cannot be true, 



O perjured wood-pigeon ! Go from me — woo 



Some other ! Heart-broken I rue 



That softness, ah me ! when you cooed your false coo. 



Soar to your new love — the creature in blue ! 



Who, who would have thought it of you ! 



And perhaps you consider her beau — 



Oo — tifiil ! O you are too too cru — 



Bid them come shoo — oot me, do, do ! 



Would I had given my heart to a hoo — 



Ooting wood-owl, cuckoo, woodcock, hoopoo ! 



One morning, at a village in Berkshire, 1 was 

 walking along the road, about twenty-five yards 

 from a cottage, when I heard, as I imagined, the 

 familiar song of the wood-pigeon ; but it sounded 

 too close, for the nearest trees were fifty yards 

 distant. Glancing up at the open window of an 



