Some to the holly-hedge Nestling repair, and to the thicket some; Some to the rude protection of the thorn Commit their feeble offspring. The cleft tree Offers its kind concealment to a few, Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. Others apart, far in the grassy dale, Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave; But most in woodland solitudes delight, In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks, Steep, and divided by a babbling brook, Whose murmurs soothe them all the livelong day, When by kind duty fixed. Among the roots Of hazel, pendent o’er the plaintive stream, They frame the first foundation of their domes; Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid, And bound with clay together. Now ’tis naught But restless hurry through the busy air, Beat by unnumbered wings. The swallow sweeps The slimy pool, to build the hanging house Intent. And often, from the careless back Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills Pluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobserved, Steal from the barn a straw, till soft and warm, Clean and complete, their habitation grows. Another celebrated poet completes the picture:— The cavern-loving wren sequestered seeks The verdant shelter of the hollow stump; And with congenial moss, harmless deceit, Constructs a safe abode. On topmost boughs The oriole, and the hoarse-voiced crow, Rocked by the storm, erect their airy nests. The ousel, long frequenter of the grove Of fragrant pines, in solemn depth of shade, Finds rest. Or mid the holly’s shining leaves, A simple bush, the piping thrush contents; Though in the woodland contest, he, aloft, Trills from his spotted throat a powerful strain, And scorns the humble quire. The wood-lark asks A lowly dwelling, hid beneath some tuft, Or hollow, trodden by the sinking hoof: Songster beloved! who to the sun such lays Pours forth as earth ne’er owns. Within the boughs The sparrow lays her spotted eggs. The barn, With eaves o’er-pendent, holds the chattering tribe. Secret the linnet seeks the tangled wood, The white owl seeks some antique ruined wall, Fearless of rapine; or in hollow trees, Which age has caverned, safely courts repose. The velvet jay, in pristine colors clad, Weaves her curious nest with firm-wreathed twigs, And sidelong forms her cautious door; she dreads The taloned hawk, or pouncing eagle, Herself, with craft suspicion ever dwells.