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THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY.
The noon was, shady, and soft airs
Swept Ouse's silent tide,
I wandered on his side.
My spaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree, (Two nymphs * adorned with every grace
That spaniel found for me)
Now wantoned lost in flags and reeds,
Now starting into sight
With scarce a slower flight.
* Sir Robert Gunning's daughters.
It was the time when Ouse displayed
His lilies newly blown;
And one I wished my own.
With cane extended far I sought
To steer it close to land; . But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escaped my eager hand.
Beau marked my unsuccessful pains
With fixt considerate face,
To comprehend the case. ¿
But with a chirrup clear and strong,
Dispersing all his dream,
The windings of the stream.
My ramble ended, I returned.
Beau trotting far before
And plunging left the shore.
I saw him with that lily cropped
Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon he dropped
The treasure at my feet.
Charmed with the sight, the world, I cried,
Shall hear of this thy deed: My dog shall mortify the pride
Of man's superior breed :
But chief myself I will enjoin,
Awake at duty's call,
To him who gives me all.
THE POET, THE OYSTER, AND
An Oyster, cast upon the shore,
Ah, hapless wretch! condemned to dwell
The plant he meant grew not far off,
You shapeless nothing in a dish,