OF SELBORNE. 119 



To see the swallow sweep the dark'ning plaiu 

 Belated, to support her infant train ; ; 

 To mark the swift in rapid giddy ring 

 Dash round the steeple, unsubdu'd of wing : 

 Amusive birds ! say where your hid retreat 

 When the frost rag^ and the tempests beat ; 

 Whence your return, by such nice instinct led. 

 When Spring, soft season, lifts her bloomy head ? 

 Such baffled searches mock man's prying pride. 

 The GOD of NATURE is your secret guide ! 



While deep'*ning shades obscure the face of day 

 To yonder bench leaf-shelter'd let us stray, 

 'Till blended objects fail the swimming sight. 

 And all the fading landscape sinks in night ; 

 To hear the drowsy dorr come brushing by 

 With buzzing wing, or the shrill cricket* cry ; 

 To see the feeding bat glance through the wood ; 

 To catch the distant falling of the flood ; 

 While o'er the cliff th' awaken'd churn-owl hung 

 Through the still gloom protracts his chattering 

 song ; 



While high in air, and pois'd upon his wings, 

 Unseen, the soft enamour'd woodlark"^}^ sings : 

 These, NATURE'S works, the curious mind 

 employ, 



Inspire a soothing melancholy joy : 

 * Gryllus campestris, 



t In hot summer nights woodlarks soar to a prodigious 

 height, and hang singing in the air. 



