222 
THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
A bullfinch who his talents try'd 
With good success, but more of pride, 
As cobling, strutting, turkey vain. 
Each bird the mark of his disdain, 
Admir'd and fear'd where'er he sung, 
Perch'd near a daw, and thus begun : 
See ! joys complete on me bestowM, 
With personal charms, and parts endow'd ; 
But feathered sages sure agree. 
That nature nodded, forming thee ; 
Awkward, alert, with whims thy head 
Mercurial mounts, but drops in lead ; 
Thy shape, thy hue, our sight offends ; 
Thy short, shrill accents who commends ? 
Not so absurd the hooting owl. 
But gravely he, thou pertly dull. 
Abash'd the daw, with satire stung, 
Jabber'd and gnaw'd, and bit his tongue ; 
To hollow tree his seat withdrew, 
Still sputt'ring anger as he flew. 
With fickle wing, soon changed his place, 
A chimney covered his disgrace ; 
Here fix^d, he scorns, with heedless ear. 
The sounds that reach his hollow sphere. 
