196 THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
a beautiful arbutus canariensis (strawberry tree) that 
grew on the lawn near the house. Here he would 
sing until hunger sent him home, when he instantly 
returned to his cage, where he would continue the 
remainder of the day. I observed, that although he 
would peck the fruit on this beautiful tree, he never 
seemed actually to eat it, but appeared to prefer the 
germenout of the blossom. 
Delightful, airy, skipping thing. 
To charm by nature taught ; 
How canst thou thus imprisoned sing. 
And swell thy downy throat ? 
Divine would be the poet's lays, 
BreathM with that melting air 
With which thy warbling voice repays 
Thy bounteous feeder's care. 
Had but those forests Orpheus drew, 
Closed in their shades a bird 
Of equal harmony with you. 
No tree of taste had stirred* 
