324 
THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
When they through toil and danger press'd 
To gain their glorious bequest, 
And from each lip the caution fell, 
To those who followed — " Guard it well V* 
C.W.Thompson. 
THE HUMMING BIRD. 
Minutest of the feather'd kind, 
Possessing every charm combined, 
Nature, in forming thee, designed 
That thou shouldst be 
A proof within how little space 
She can comprise such perfect grace, 
Rendering thy lovely fairy race. 
Beauty's epitome. 
Those burnished colours te bestow, 
Her pencil in the heavenly bow 
She dipp'd, and made thy plumes to glow 
With every hue 
That in the dancing sunbeam plays ; 
And with the ruby's vivid blaze, 
Mingled the emerald^s lucid rays. 
With halcyon blue, 
