THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
131 
the time long, in hearing so sweet and delightful 
pleasant harmony/' 
But the poet goes greater lengths, in describing the 
contention between the Nightingale and the Fiddler. 
THE FIDDLER AND NIGHTINGALE. 
Prone to the sea the sun declined apace, 
Mild in his course, and shorn of all his rays ; 
When, on the bank of Tyber's gliding stream, 
Retired from cares and Phoebus' burning beam, 
Beneath a tow'ring rock a fiddler sat, 
Pleas'd with the kindness of his smiling fate. 
A verdant prospect all around him lay, 
Whilst all around, transported, heard him play. 
High on a tree, within a neighboring grove. 
Stood Philomel, and warbled out her love : 
This syren there her daily song renews, 
A hurtless syren, a sylvestrian muse ; 
Struck with unusual notes, she quits her stand, 
And, in a moment, perches o'er his hand; 
Hid in a thicket of a spreading boagh. 
Receives his music, and returns it too. 
