190 BIRDS. 
Merry is the bird’s life 
When the year is in its prime! 
Some are strong and some are weak ; 
Some love day and some love night ;— 
But whate’er a bird is, 
Whate’er loves—it has delight, 
In the joyous song it sings ; 
In the liquid air it cleaves ; 
In the sunshine; in the shower; 
In the nest it weaves! 
Do we wake; or do we sleep ; 
Go our fancies in a crowd 
After many a dull care,— 
Birds are singing loud! 
Sing then linnet; sing then wren ; 
Merle and mavis sing your fill ; 
And thou, rapturous skylark, 
Sing and soar up from the hill! 
Sing, oh, nightingale, and pour 
Out for us sweet fancies new !— 
Singing thus for us, birds, 
We will sing of you! 
