The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
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THE TYRANT FLY-CATCHER, OR KING BIRD. |
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 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
THE TYRANT FLY-CATCHER, OR KING BIRD.
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“Great prejudices are entertained against this little bird; I, however, honour him for his extreme affection for his young; for his contempt of danger, and unexampled intrepidity; for his meekness of behaviour when there are no calls upon his courage; but, above all, for the millions of ruinous vermin of which he rids us! . .
As a friend to this persecuted bird, and an enemy to prejudices of every description, will the reader allow me to set this matter in a somewhat clearer and stronger light, by presenting him with a short poetical epitome of the King-bird's history.”
Far in the south, where vast Maragnon flows,
And boundless forests unknown wilds enclose,
Vine-tangled shores and suffocating woods,
Parched up with heat, or drown'd with pouring floods;
Where each extreme alternately prevails,
And nature, sad, the 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 feathered millions play.
All tempt not him; till, gazing from on high,
Columbia's regions wide below him lie;
There end his wanderings 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.
And boundless forests unknown wilds enclose,
Vine-tangled shores and suffocating woods,
Parched up with heat, or drown'd with pouring floods;
Where each extreme alternately prevails,
And nature, sad, the 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 feathered millions play.
All tempt not him; till, gazing from on high,
Columbia's regions wide below him lie;
There end his wanderings 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.
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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 that country, sneak in holes away,
Shrink from the perils ye were bound to face,
And leave these babes and country to disgrace;
Come here, (if such we have) ye dastard herd!
And kneel in dust before this noble bird.
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 that country, sneak in holes away,
Shrink from the perils ye were bound to face,
And leave these babes and country to disgrace;
Come here, (if such we have) ye dastard herd!
And kneel in dust before this noble bird.
When the specked 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 gad-fly and the balmy bee;
For her repose scours o'er th'adjacent farm,
Whence hawks might dart, or lurking foes alarm,—
For now abroad a band of ruffians prey,
The crow, the cuckoo, and th'insiduous jay;
These, in the owner's absence, all destroy,
And murder every hope, and every joy.
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 gad-fly and the balmy bee;
For her repose scours o'er th'adjacent farm,
Whence hawks might dart, or lurking foes alarm,—
For now abroad a band of ruffians prey,
The crow, the cuckoo, and th'insiduous jay;
These, in the owner's absence, all destroy,
And murder every hope, and every joy.
Soft sits his brooding mate, her guardian he,
Perched on the top of some tall neighb'ring tree;
Thence, from the thicket to the concave skies,
His watchful eye around unceasing flies.
Wrens, thrushes, warblers, startled at his note,
Fly in affright the consecrated spot;
He drives the plundering jay, with honest scorn
Back to the woods—the mocker to his thorn;
Sweeps round the cuckoo, as the thief retreats,
Attacks the crow, the diving hawk defeats,
Darts on the eagle downwards from afar,
And 'midst the clouds, prolongs the whirling war.
All danger o'er, he hastens back elate,
To guard his post, and feed his faithful mate.
Perched on the top of some tall neighb'ring tree;
Thence, from the thicket to the concave skies,
His watchful eye around unceasing flies.
Wrens, thrushes, warblers, startled at his note,
Fly in affright the consecrated spot;
He drives the plundering jay, with honest scorn
Back to the woods—the mocker to his thorn;
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Attacks the crow, the diving hawk defeats,
Darts on the eagle downwards from afar,
And 'midst the clouds, prolongs the whirling war.
All danger o'er, he hastens back elate,
To guard his post, and feed his faithful mate.
Behold him now, his little family flown,
Meek, unassuming, silent, and alone,
Lured by the well-known hum of favourite bees,
As slow he hovers o'er the garden trees;
(For all have failings, passions, whims, that lead
Some favourite wish, some appetite to feed:)
Straight he alights, and from the pear-tree spies
The circling stream of humming insects rise;
Selects his prey, darts on the busy brood,
And shrilly twitters o'er his savoury food.
Meek, unassuming, silent, and alone,
Lured by the well-known hum of favourite bees,
As slow he hovers o'er the garden trees;
(For all have failings, passions, whims, that lead
Some favourite wish, some appetite to feed:)
Straight he alights, and from the pear-tree spies
The circling stream of humming insects rise;
Selects his prey, darts on the busy brood,
And shrilly twitters o'er his savoury food.
Ah, ill-timed triumph! direful note to thee,
That guides thy murderer to the fatal tree;
See where he skulks, and takes his gloomy stand,
The deep-charged musket hanging in his hand,
And, gaunt for blood, he leans it on a rest,
Prepared and pointed at thy snow-white breast.
Ah! friend, good friend, forbear that barb'rous deed,
Against it, valour, goodness, pity plead;
If ere a family's griefs, a widow's woe
Have reached thy soul, in mercy let him go!
Yet should the tear of pity nought avail;
Let interest speak, let gratitude prevail;
Kill not thy friend, who thy whole harvest shields,
And sweeps ten thousand vermin from thy fields.
Think how this dauntless bird, thy poultry's guard,
Drove ev'ry hawk and eagle from thy yard;
Watch'd round thy cattle as they fed, and slew
The hungry, black'ning swarms that round them flew;
Some small return, some little right resign,
And spare his life whose services are thine!
—I plead in vain! amid the bursting roar
The poor, lost King-bird, welters in his gore.
That guides thy murderer to the fatal tree;
See where he skulks, and takes his gloomy stand,
The deep-charged musket hanging in his hand,
And, gaunt for blood, he leans it on a rest,
Prepared and pointed at thy snow-white breast.
Ah! friend, good friend, forbear that barb'rous deed,
Against it, valour, goodness, pity plead;
If ere a family's griefs, a widow's woe
Have reached thy soul, in mercy let him go!
Yet should the tear of pity nought avail;
Let interest speak, let gratitude prevail;
Kill not thy friend, who thy whole harvest shields,
And sweeps ten thousand vermin from thy fields.
Think how this dauntless bird, thy poultry's guard,
Drove ev'ry hawk and eagle from thy yard;
Watch'd round thy cattle as they fed, and slew
The hungry, black'ning swarms that round them flew;
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And spare his life whose services are thine!
—I plead in vain! amid the bursting roar
The poor, lost King-bird, welters in his gore.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |