NIGHTINGALE. 



modern poets, have represented the Nightingale's 

 song as plaintive and melancholy. Coleridge, 

 however, in some beautiful lines on this bird, 

 exclaims — 



" A melancholy bird ? Oh ! idle thought — 

 In Nature there is nothing melancholy. 



* * * 'Tis the merry Nightingale 

 That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates 

 With fast thick warble his delicious notes, 

 As he were fearful that an April night 

 Would be too short for him to utter forth 

 His love-chaunt, and disburthen his full soul 

 Of all its music ! * * * * 



* * * * Far and near, 



In wood and thicket, over the wide grove, 



They answer and provoke each other's song, 



With skirmish and capricious passagings, 



And murmurs musical and swift jug-jug, 



And one low piping sound more sweet than all — 



Stirring the air with such a harmony, 



That should you close your eyes, you might almost 



Forget it was not day!" 



This bird prepares a nest the latter end of May 

 of a very simple construction, made of dry leaves, 

 generally of the oak, and lined with dry grass, 

 usually placed on the ground amongst the same 

 materials of which it is composed ; so that it is 

 not easily discovered. The eggs are four or five 

 in number, of a uniform dark brown colour. As 

 soon as the young are hatched, the song of the 

 parent bird is no more heard during the remain- 

 der of its stay with us. " After the month of 

 June," says Buffon, " the Nightingale sings no 

 more, and he retains only a hoarse cry, a sort of 



