[8] ]The Butcher-bird, too, changing battle for love,
In the plumes of a Pigeon, made up to a dove:
He could manage the billing, though out in the cooing—
As well might a Kitten sham Cow ... and be mooing!
But his dove in a twinkling escap’d from his view,
And return’d, in the crest of a fierce Cockatoo:
Whilst ye, tiny Tits!—both the lark, and the mouse—
Drest your legs up in feathers, and call’d yourselves Grouse.
But it would surely have forc’d an old hermit to laugh,
Had he seen the gay Finches,—gold, green, bull, and chaff,