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any richness or variety in its plumage. Its general colour is a rusty brown, with white on the throat and the belly.

It is a bird of passage, generally appearing in this country about the beginning of April, and returning to a warmer climate at the end of summer. It is common in some of the southern counties of England, but never visits the northern or western parts. During our winter months it is found in the northern parts of Africa, and is at all times to be met with in India, Persia, China, and Japan, where it is even more esteemed for its song than in Britain.

The note of the nightingale is very pleasing, the more so, perhaps, as it is often heard at a time when all the other songsters of the woods are hushed in silence. When she begins her song, the notes are at first soft and gentle; but they gradually swell from simple notes to the wildest warblings; and nothing can be more delightful than to listen in the stillness of night to the rich melody of this sweet songster.

THE NIGHTINGALE.

Up this green woodland path we'll softly rove,
And list the nightingale: she dwelleth here.
Hush! let the wood-gate gently close, for fear
Its noise might scare her from her home of love.
Here I have heard her sing for many a year,
At noon and eve, ay, all the livelong day,
As though she lived on song. In this same spot,
Just where the old-man's-beard all wildly trails
Its tresses o'er the track and stops the way,
And where that child the fox-glove flowers hath got,
Laughing and creeping through the moss-grown rails,
Oft have I hunted, like a truant boy,

Creeping through thorny brakes with eager joy,

THE GOLDFINCH.

To find her nest and see her feed her young:

And where those crimpled ferns grow rank among
The hazel boughs, I've nestled down full oft,
To watch her warbling on some spray aloft,
With wings all quivering in her ecstasy,
And feathers ruffling up in transport high,
And bill wide open-to relieve her heart
Of its out-sobbing song!-But with a start,
If I but stirred a branch, she stopt at once,
And, flying off swift as the eye can glance,
In leafy distance hid, to sing again.
Anon, from bosom of that green retreat,
Her song anew in silvery stream would gush,
With jug-jug-jug and quavered trilling sweet;
Till, roused to emulate the enchanting strain,
From hawthorn spray piped loud the merry thrush
Her wild bravura through the woodlands wide.

Clare,

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8.-THE GOLDFINCH.

THE goldfinch is a beautiful little bird, about five and a half inches in length. Its plumage is of a rich scarlet, mingled with deep black, white, and yellow. It is remarkable for the neatness with which it builds its nest; the outside consisting of very fine moss, curiously interwoven with wool, hair, and other materials; and the inside lined with the soft down of thistles and other delicate substances. The nest of the goldfinch is often found in orchards and gardens, built in a tree or thick evergreen shrub. is literally a cradle, and the young birds are rocked in it by the winds nearly as much as they are to be afterwards

It

on the tall and flexible stems on which they are to find their food. The goldfinch is often seen feeding on the seeds of the thistle; and its fondness for this plant is such that it is sometimes called the "thistle-finch." It also feeds on the downy seeds of various other plants, and is therefore regarded with favour by the farmer, who is greatly indebted to this and various other members of the finch family for preventing his land from being overgrown with weeds.

THE GOLDFINCH.

With equal art externally disguised,
But of internal structure passing far
The feather'd concaves of the other tribes,
The goldfinch weaves, with willow down inlaid,
And cannach tufts, his wonderful abode.
Sometimes, suspended at the limber end

Of plane-tree spray, among the broad-leaved shoots,
The tiny hammock swings to every gale;

Sometimes in closest thickets 'tis conceal'd;
Sometimes in hedge luxuriant, where the brier,
The bramble, and the crooked plum-tree branch,
Warp through the thorn, surmounted by the flowers
Of climbing vetch and honeysuckle wild,

All undefaced by Art's deforming hand.

But mark the pretty bird himself! How light

And quick is every motion, every note!

How beautiful his plumes, his red-tinged head,

His breast of brown! and see him stretch his wing,—

A fairy fan of golden spokes it seems.

Oft on the thistle's tuft he, nibbling, sits,

Light as the down; then, 'mid a flight of downs,

He wings his way, piping his shrillest call.

Grahame.

THE BULLFINCH.

THE GOLDFINCH.

"Goldfinch! pride of woodland glade,
In thy jet and gold array'd!
Gentle bird, that lov'st to feed
On the thistle's downy seed!
Freely frolic, lightly sing,

In the sunbeam spread thy wing.
Spread thy plumage, trim and gay,
Glittering in the noontide ray,
As upon the thorn-tree's stem
Perch'd, thou sipp'st the dewy gem.
Fickle bird, for ever roving,
Endless changes ever loving;
Now in orchards gaily sporting,
Now to flowery fields resorting;
Chasing now the thistle's down,
By the gentle zephyrs blown;
Lightly on thou win'st thy way,
Always happy, always gay."

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9.-THE BULLFINCH.

THE bullfinch is common in every part of Britain. It is a bird about the size of a sparrow, with a fine glossy black head and wings, and a red breast.

The usual haunts of the bullfinch in summer are the woods and thickets. It also frequents our orchards and gardens in spring; but it is no favourite with the gardener, by whom it is regarded as one of the most pernicious of the feathered race, being very destructive to the tender buds of trees.

The wild note of the bullfinch is a soft, long twitter; but when tamed, it becomes remarkably docile, and is easily taught to whistle musical airs.

THE BULLFINCH.

Deep in the thorn's entangled maze,
Or where the fruit-tree's thickening sprays
Yield a secure and close retreat,
The dusky bullfinch plans her seat.
There where you see the clustered boughs
Put forth the opening bud, her spouse,
With mantle gray, and jet-like head,
And flaming breast of crimson red,
Is perched, with hard and hawk-like beak,
Intent the embryo fruit to seek;
Nor ceases from his pleasing toil,
The orchard's budding hope to spoil,
Unless, with quick and timid glance
Of his dark eye, your dread advance
He notice, and your search evade,
Hid in the thicket's pathless shade.

Mant.

10. THE LINNET.

THE linnet is a well known song bird, common in every part of Europe. It is about five inches and a half in length, and the general colour of its plumage is a reddish brown, tipped here and there with white.

The song of the linnet is lively and varied, and its manners and disposition very gentle. "It delights and lives in society, frequenting open commons and grassy

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