Their forms all symmetry, their motions grace; In plumage delicate and beautiful, Thick without burthen, close as fishes' scales, Or loose as full-blown poppies to the breeze; With wings that might have had a soul within them, They bore their owners by such sweet enchantment; --Birds, small and great, of endless shapes and colours, Here flew and perch'd, there swam and dived at pleasure; Watchful and agile, uttering voices wild And harsh, yet in accordance with the waves Upon the beech, the winds in caverns moaning, Or winds and waves abroad upon the water. Some sought their food among the finny shoals, Swift darting from the clouds, emerging soon With slender captives glittering in their beaks; These in recesses of steep crags constructed Their eyries inaccessible, and train'd Their hardy broods to forage in all weathers; Others, more gorgeously apparell'd, dwelt Among the woods, on Nature's dainties feeding, Herbs, seeds, and roots; or, ever on the wing, Pursuing insects through the boundless air: In hollow trees or thickets these conceal'd Their exquisitely woven nests; where lay Their callow offspring, quiet as the down On their own breasts, till from her search the dam With laden bill return'd, and shared the meal Among the clamorous suppliants, all agape; Then, cowering o'er them with expanded wings, She felt how sweet it is to be a mother. Of these, a few, with melody untaught, Turn'd all the air to music within hearing, Themselves unseen; while bolder quiristers On loftier branches strain'd their clarion-pipes, And made the forest echo to their screams Discordant,--yet there was no discord there, But temper'd harmony: all tones combining, In the rich confluence often thousand tongues, To tell of joy and to inspire it. Who Could hear such concert, and not join in chorus? Not I;--sometimes entranced, I seem'd to float Upon a buoyant sea of sounds: again With curious ear I tried to disentangle The maze of voices, and with eye as nice To single out each minstrel, and pursue His little song through all its labyrinth, Till my soul enter'd into him, and felt Every vibration of his thrilling throat, Pulse of his heart, and flutter of his pinions. Often, as one among the multitude, I sang from very fulness of delight; Now like a winged fisher of the sea, Now a recluse among the woods,--enjoying The bliss of all at once, or each in turn. * * * * * RAPIDS OF NIAGARA.