THOMAS Hardy's proud songsters still serenade us in spring and early summer, a treat and a wonder, though the band of singers does not include the nightingale so far north.

PROUD SONGSTERS

The thrushes sing as the sun is going,

And the finches whistle in ones and pairs,

And as it gets dark loud nightingales

In bushes

Pipe, as they can when April wears,

As if Time were theirs.

These are brand-new birds of twelve-months' growing,

Which a year ago, or less than twain,

No finches were, nor nightingales,

Nor thrushes,

But only particles of grain,

And earth, and air, and rain.