38 
THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
In clouds unnumbered annual hover o'er 
The craggy Bass, or Kilda's utmost shore ; 
Thence spread their sails to meet the southern wind. 
And leave the gathering tempest far behind ; 
Pursue the circling sun's indulgent ray, 
Course the swift seasons, and overtake the day. 
Barbauld. 
birds' nests. 
Spring is abroad ! the cuckoo's note 
Floats o'er the flowery lea ; 
Yet nothing of the mighty sea 
Her welcome tones import ; 
Nothing of lands where she has been, 
Of fortunes she has known ; 
The joy of this remember 'd scene 
Breathes in her song alone. 
No traveller she, whose vaunting boast 
Tells of each fair but far-off' coast; 
She talks not here of eastern skies. 
But of home and its pleasant memories. 
