70 TYRANT FLYCATCHER. 



As a friend to this persecuted bird, and an enemy to prejudices 

 of every description, will the reader allow me to set this matter in 

 a somewhat clearer and stronger light, by presenting him with a 

 short poetical epitome of the King-bird's history? 



Far in the south, where vast Maragnoii flows. 

 And boundless forests unknown wilds enclose ; 

 , Vine-tangled shores, and suffocating woods, 

 Parch'd up with heat, or drown'd with pouring floods ; 

 Where each extreme alternately prevails. 

 And Nature sad their ravages bewails ; 

 Lo ! high in air, above those trackless wastes, 

 With Spring's return the King-bird hither hastes ; 

 Coasts the fam'd Gulf,^ and from his height explores. 

 Its thousand streams, its long indented shores. 

 Its plains immense, wide op'ning on the day. 

 Its lakes and isles where feather'd millions play; 

 All tempt not him; till, gazing from on high, 

 Columbia's regions wide below him lie; 

 There end his wand'rings and his wish to roam, 

 There lie his native woods, his fields, his home; 

 Down, circling, he descends, from azure heights. 

 And on a full-blown sassafras alights. 



Fatigued and silent, for a while he views 

 His old frequented haunts, and shades recluse, 

 Sees brothers, comrades, every hour arrive — 

 Hears, humming round, the tenants of the hive; 

 Love fires his breast, he wooes; and soon is blest; 

 And in the blooming orchard builds his nest. 



Come now ye cowards ! ye whom heav'n disdains, 

 Who boast the happiest home — the richest plains; 



* Of Mexico. 



