No;-Soon as from ashore he saw

The winged mansion move,
He flew to reach it, by a law
Of never-failing love.

Then perching at his consort's side,
Was briskly borne along,
The billows and the blast defied,
And cheer'd her with a song.

The seaman with sincere delight
His feather'd shipmates eyes,
Scarce less exulting in the sight
Than when he tows a prize.

For seamen much believe in signs,
And from a chance so new
Each some approaching good divines,
And may his hopes be true!

Hail, honour'd land! a desert where
Not even birds can hide,
Yet parent of this loving pair

Whom nothing could divide.

And ye who, rather than resign
Your matrimonial plan,

Were not afraid to plough the brine

In company with man;

For whose lean country much disdain

We English often show,

Yet from a richer nothing gain

But wantonness and woe;

Be it your fortune, year by year,

The same resource to prove,
And may ye, sometimes landing here,
Instruct us how to love1!

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.

JUNE 29, 1793.

DEAR architect of fine CHATEAUX in air,
Worthier to stand for ever, if they could,
Than any built of stone, or yet of wood,
For back of royal elephant to bear;
O 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!

1 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.

Glasgow, May 23.

"In a block, or pulley, near the head of the mast of a gabert, 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 seldom; while the hen never leaves it, but when she descends to the hull for food."

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

ON

A SPANIEL, CALLED BEAU,

KILLING A YOUNG BIRD.

JULY 15, 1793.

A SPANIEL, Beau, that fares like you,
Well fed, and at his ease,
Should wiser be than to pursue
Each trifle that he sees.

But

you have kill'd a tiny bird, Which flew not till to-day,

Against my orders, whom you heard.

Forbidding you the prey.

Nor did you kill that

you might eat,

And ease a doggish pain,

For him, though chased with furious heat,

You left where he was slain.

Nor was he of the thievish sort,
Or one whom blood allures,
But innocent was all his sport
Whom you have torn for yours.

S. C.-10.

G

SIR, when I flew to seize the bird
In spite of your command,
A louder voice than yours I heard,
And harder to withstand.

You cried-forbear!-but in my breast
A mightier cried-proceed!-
'Twas nature, sir, whose strong behest
Impell'd me to the deed.

Yet much as nature I respect,
I ventured once to break
(As you perhaps may recollect)
Her precept for your sake;

And when your linnet on a day,
Passing his prison door,

Had flutter'd all his strength away,
And panting press'd the floor;

Well knowing him a sacred thing,
Not destined to my tooth,
I only kiss'd his ruffled wing,
And lick'd the feathers smooth.

Let

my obedience then excuse
My disobedience now,

Nor some reproof yourself refuse
From your aggrieved bow-wow;

If killing birds be such a crime,
(Which I can hardly see,)
What think you, sir, of killing time
With verse address'd to me?

ANSWER

ΤΟ

STANZAS ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH,

BY MISS CATHARINE FANSHAWE,

IN RETURNING A POEM OF MR. COWPER'S, LENT TO HER ON CONDITION SHE SHOULD NEITHER SHOW IT, NOR TAKE A COPY.

1793.

To be remember'd thus is fame,

And in the first degree;

And did the few like her the same,
The press might sleep for me.

So Homer, in the memory stored
Of many a Grecian belle,

Was once preserved a richer hoard,
But never lodged so well.