« ForrigeFortsett »
Mrs. (now Lady) Throckmorton's
Ye nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red
O share Maria's grief!
Assassined by a thief.
Where Rhenus strays his vines among,
And though by nature mute,
The honours of his ebon poll
With •which Aurora decks the skies,
Above, below, in all the house,
No cat had leave to dwell;
Large-built and latticed well.
Well-latticed—but the grate, alas!
For Bully's plumage sake,
The swains their baskets make.
Night veiled the pole. All seemed secure
Subsistence to provide,
And badger-coloured hide.
He, entering at the study-door,
And something in the wind
LADY THOCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. 83
Conjectured, sniffing round and round,
Just then, by adverse fate impressed,
In sleep he seemed to view
Awoke and found it true.
For, aided both by ear and scent,
Ah, muse! forbear to speak
He left poor Bully's beak.
He left it—but he ..should have ta'en:
Of such mellifluous tone,
Fast set within his own.
Maria weeps—The Muses mourn—
The tree-enchanter Orpheus fell;
Reasoning at every step he treads,
Man yet mistakes his way,
Are rarely known to stray.
And heard the voice of love;
And soothed the listening dove;
No time shall disengage,
Shall cheer our latest age:
While innocence without disguise,
And constancy sincere,
And mine can read them there;
Those ills, that wait on all below,
Shall ne'er be felt by me, Or gently felt, and only so,
As being shared with thee.
When lightnings flash among the trees,
Or kites are hovering near,
And know no other fear. 4:
'Tis then I feel myself a wife,
And press thy wedded side, Resolved an union formed for life
Death never shall divide.
vIII. But oh! if fickle and unchaste,
(Forgive a transient thought) Thou could become unkind at last,
And scorn thy present lot,
Or kites with cruel beak;
This widowed heart would break.
vOL. III. H