« ForrigeFortsett »
Ordained perhaps ere summer flies,
Combined with millions more,
Though black and foul before.
Illustrious drop! and happy then
Beyond the happiest lot,
So soon to be forgot!
Phoebus, if such be thy design,
To place it in thy bow,
With equal grace below.
PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED.
I Shall not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau*,
If birds confabulate or no; .
'Tis clear that they were always able
To hold discourse, at least, in fable;
And e'en the child, who knows no better,
Than to enterpret by the letter,
* It was one of the whimsical speculations of this ilosopher, that all fables which ascribe reason and
ech to animals should be withheld from children, as being only vehicles of deception. But -what child was ever deceived by them, of can be, agajust the evidence, of his senses?
A story of a cock and bull,
Must have a most uncommon skull.
It chanced then on a winter's day,
My friends! be cautious how ye treat
A Finch, whose tongue knew no control,
Methinks the gentleman, quoth she, Opposite in the apple-tree, By his good will would keep us single Till yonder heaven and earth shall mingle, Or (which is likelier to befall)
Till death exterminate us all. •
I marry without more ado,
My dear Dick Redcap, what say you?
Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling, Turning short round, strutting and sideling, Attested, glad, his approbation Of an immediate conjugation. Their sentiments so well expressed -»
Influenced mightily the rest, C
All paired, and each pair built a nest. ^
But though the birds were thus in haste, The leaves came on not quite so fast, And destiny, that sometimes bears An aspect stern on man's affairs, Not altogether smiled on theirs. The wind, of late breathed gently forth. Now shifted east and east by north; Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know, Could shelter them from rain or snow, Stepping into their nests, they paddled, Themselves were chilled, their eggs were addled; Soon every father bird and mother Grew quarrelsome, and pecked each other, Parted \vithout the least regret, Except that they had ever met,
And learned in future to be wiser,
Misses! the tale that I relate
Choose not alone a proper mate,
THE DOG AND THE WATER LILY.
The noon was shady, and soft airs
Swept Ouse's silent tide,
I wandered on his tide.
My spaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree,
That spaniel found for me)
Now wantoned lost in flags and reeds,
* Sir Robert Gunning's daughters.
Pursued the swallow o'er the meads
It was the time when Ouse displayed
His lilies newly blown;
And one I wished my own.
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.
Dispersing all his dream,
The windings of the stream.
My ramble finished, I returned.
Beau trotting far before
And plunging left the shore.
Impatient swim to meet
The treasure at my feet..