I spring the neighbouring fence, and scale the trunk
Of apple-tree; or wide, o’er flowery lawns,
By hedge or thicket, bend my hasty steps,
Intent, with secret ambush, to surprise,
The straw-built nest, and unsuspecting brood
Of thrush or bull-finch; oft with watchful ken
Eyeing the backward lawns, lest hostile glance
Observe my footsteps, while each rustling leaf,
Stirr’d by the gentle gale, alarms my fears:
Then, parched beneath the burning heats of noon,