THE EARLY MORNING. 
165 
hence is rather a tardy mover ; but it is always ready 
for food, and seems to listen to what is going forward. 
We see it now peeping from its penthouse, inquisitively 
surveying the land ; and, should provision be obtainable, 
it immediately descends upon it without any scruple, 
and makes itself a welcome guest with all. It retires 
early to rest. The blackbird quits its leafy roost in the 
ivied ash; its “chink, chink” is heard in the hedge 
and, mounting on some neighboring oak, with mellow, 
sober voice it gratulates the coming day. “ The plain - 
song cuckoo gray” from some tall tree now tells its tale. 
The lark is in the air, the “ marten twitters from her 
earth-built shed,” all the choristers are tuning in the 
grove ; and amid such tokens of awakening pleasure it 
becomes difficult to note priority of voice. These are 
the matin voices of the summer season : in winter a 
cheerless chirp, or a hungry twit, is all we hear ; the 
families of voice are away, or silent ; we have little to 
note, and perhaps as little inclination to observe. 
During no portion of the day can the general opera- 
tions of nature be more satisfactorily observed than in 
the early morning. Rosy June— the very thoughts of 
an early summer’s morning in the country, like en- 
chantment, gives action to the current of our blood, 
and seems to breathe through our veins a stream of 
health and enjoyment ! All things appear fresh and un- 
soiled; the little birds, animated and gratulous, are 
frisking about the sprays ; others, proceeding to their 
morning’s meal, or occupied in the callings of their 
nature, give utterance by every variety of voice to the 
pleasures that they feel : the world has not yet called 
us, and with faculties unworn, we unite with them, 
partake of this general hilarity and joy, feel disposed 
to be happy, and enjoy the blessings around us : the 
very air itself, as yet uninhaled by any, circulates about 
us replete with vitality, conveying more than its usual 
portion of sustenance and health, “ and man goeth forth 
unto his labor.” Night-feeding creatures, feeling the 
j freshness of light, and the coming day, are all upon the 
move, retiring from danger and observation ; and we 
|| can note them now unhidden in their lairs, unconcealed 
