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THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
lege it seems, to confine these lovely minstrels in the 
smoke and noxious atmosphere of a city, instead of 
seeking them " in the valley of seclusion/' Who 
will not admire Coleridge's description of a happy 
country dwelling, in the midst of all that is lovely in 
nature ! 
Low was our pretty cot, our tallest rose 
Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear 
At silent noon, and eve, and early morn. 
The sea^s faint murmur. In the open air 
Our myrtles blossom'd ; and across the porch 
Thick jasmins twined. The little landscape round 
Was green and woody, and refresh^ the eye. 
It was a spot which you might aptly call 
The Valley of Seclusion ! Once I saw 
(Hallowing his sabbath day by quietness) 
A wealthy son of commerce saunter by, 
Bristowa's citizen ; methought, it calm'd 
His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse 
With wiser feelings : for he paused, and looked 
With a pleased sadness, and he gazed all around, 
Then eyed our cottage, and gazed round again. 
And sigh'd, and said, it was a blessed place, 
