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TYRANT FLYCATCHER, OR KING BIRD. 
Far in the south, where vast Maragnon flows, 
And boundless forests unknown wilds enclose ; 
Vine-tangled shores, and suffocating woods, 
Parch’d up with heat, or drown’d with pouring floods ; 
Where each extreme alternately prevails, 
And Nature sad their ravages bewails ; 
Lo ! high in air, above those trackless wastes, 
With Spring’s return the King Bird hither hastes ; 
Coasts the famed Gulf, * and, from his height, explores 
Its thousand streams, its long indented shores, 
Its plains immense, wide op’ning on the day, 
Its lakes and isles, where feather’d millions play : 
All tempt not him ; till, gazing from on high, 
Columbia’s regions wide below him lie ; 
There end his wand’rings and his wish to roam, 
There lie his native woods, his fields, his home ; 
Down, circling, he descends, from azure heights, 
And on a full-blown sassafras alights. 
Fatigued and silent, for a while he views 
His old frequented haunts, and shades recluse, 
Sees brothers, comrades, every hour arrive — 
Hears, humming round, the tenants of the hive : 
Love fires his breast ; he wooes, and soon is blest ; 
And in the blooming orchard builds his nest. 
Come now, ye cowards ! ye whom Heaven disdains, 
Who boast the happiest home — the richest plains ; 
On whom, perchance, a wife, an infant’s eye 
Hang as their hope, and on your arm rely ; 
Yet, when the hour of danger and dismay 
Comes on your country, sneak in holes away, 
Shrink from the perils ye were bound to face, 
And leave those babes and country to disgrace ; 
Come here, (if such we have,) ye dastard herd ! 
And kneel in dust before this noble bird. 
When the speck’d eggs within his nest appear, 
Then glows affection, ardent and sincere ; 
No discord sours him when his mate he meets ; 
But each warm heart with mutual kindness beats. 
For her repast he bears along the lea 
The bloated gadfly, and the balmy bee ; 
For her repose scours o’er th’ adjacent farm, 
Whence Hawks might dart, or lurking foes alarm ; 
* Of Mexico. 
