Oh for permission from the skies to share,
Much to my own, though little to thy good,
With thee (not subject to the jealous mood!)
A partnership of literary ware!

But I am bankrupt now; and doomed henceforth
To drudge, in descant dry, on others' lays;
Bards, I acknowledge, of unequalled worth :
But what is commentator's happiest praise?
That he has furnished lights for other eyes,
Which they who need them use, and then despise.
June 29, 1793.

A TALE.*

IN Scotland's realm, where trees are few,
Nor even shrubs abound;

But where, however bleak the view,
Some better things are found:

For husband there and wife may boast
Their union undefiled,

And false ones are as rare almost
As hedge-rows in the wild :

In Scotland's realm forlorn and bare
This history chanced of late,-
This history of a wedded pair,

A chaffinch and his mate.

The spring drew near, each felt a breast
With genial instinct filled;

They paired, and would have built a nest,
But found not where to build.

The heaths uncovered and the moors
Except with snow and sleet,
Sea-beaten rocks and naked shores,
Could yield them no retreat.

Long time a breeding-place they sought,
Till both grew vexed and tired;

At length a ship arriving brought
The good so long desired.

A ship!-could such a restless thing
Afford them place of rest?

Or was the merchant charged to bring
The homeless birds a nest?

Hush!-silent hearers profit most,—
This racer of the sea

Proved kinder to them than the coast,
It served them with a tree.

But such a tree! 'twas shaven deal,
The tree they call a mast,
And had a hollow with a wheel
Through which the tackle passed.
Within that cavity aloft

Their roofless home they fixed,
Form'd with materials neat and soft,
Bents, wool, and feathers mixed.

Four ivory eggs soon pave its floor,
With russet specks bedight;
The vessel weighs, forsakes the shore,
And lessens to the sight.

The mother-bird is gone to sea

As she had changed her kind;
But goes the male? Far wiser he
Is doubtless left behind.

* This tale is founded on an article of intelligence which the author found in the "Buckinghamshire Herald," for Saturday, June 1, 1793, in the following words :

66

Glasgow, May 23.

"In a block, or pulley, near the head of the mast of a gabbert, now lying at the Broomielaw, there is a chaffinch's nest and four eggs. The nest was built while the vessel lay at Greenock, and was followed hither by both birds. Though the block is occasionally lowered for the inspection of the curious, the birds have not forsaken the nest. The cock, however, visits the nest but scidon while the hen never leaves it but when she descends to the hull for food."

ON HIS TRANSLATING THE AUTHOR'S SONG ON A ROSE INTO ITALIAN VERSE.

My rose, Gravina, blooms anew;

And steeped not now in rain,

But in Castalian streams by you,
Will never fade again.

1793.

ON FLAXMAN'S PENELOPE.

THE suitors sinned, but with a fair excuse,
Whom all this elegance might well seduce;
Nor can our censure on the husband fall,
Who, for a wife so lovely, slew them all.
Sept. 1793

I SHOULD have deemed it once an effort vain

To sweeten more sweet Maro's matchless strain,

But from that error now behold me free,

Since I received him as a gift from thee.

Oct. 1793.

MOTTO FOR A CLOCK.

QUÆ lenta accedit, quam velox præterit hora!
Ut capias, patiens esto, sed esto vigil!

Slow comes the hour; its passing speed how great!
Waiting to seize it--vigilantly wait!

IN A TIME OF GREAT HEAT.

TO HAYLEY.

AH! brother Poet, send me of your shade!
And bid the zephyrs hasten to my aid;
Or, like a worm unearthed at noon, I go,
Despatched by sunshine, to the shades below.