This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,

Might have bloom'd with it's owner a while; And the tear, that is wip'd with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.

THE DOVES.

REAS'NING

1.

'NING at ev'ry step he treads,

Man yet mistakes his way,

While meaner things, whom instinct leads,

Are rarely known to stray.

II.

One silent eve I wander'd late,
And heard the voice of love;

The turtle thus address'd her mate,
And sooth'd the list'ning dove :

III.

Our mutual bond of faith and truth
No time shall disengage,

Those blessings of our early youth
Shall cheer our latest age:

IV.

While innocence without disguise,

And constancy sincere,

Shall fill the circles of those eyes,

And mine can read them there;

V.

Those ills, that wait on all below,
Shall ne'er be felt by me,
Or gently felt, and only so,

As being shar'd with thee.

VI.

When lightnings flash among the trees, Or kites are hov'ring near,

I fear lest thee alone they seize,

And know no other fear.

VII.

"Tis then I feel myself a wife,
And press thy wedded side,
Resolv'd a union form'd 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,

IX.

No need of lightnings from on high,
Or kites with cruel beak;

Denied th' endearments of thine eye,
This widow'd heart would break.

X.

Thus sang the sweet sequester'd bird,

Soft as the passing wind, And I recorded what I heard, A lesson for mankind.

A FABLE.

A

RAVEN, while with glossy breast
Her new-laid eggs she fondly press'd,
And, on her wickerwork high mounted,
Her chickens prematurely counted,
(A fault philosophers might blame
If quite exempted from the same)
Enjoy'd at ease the genial day;
"Twas April, as the bumpkins say,
The legislature call'd it May.
But suddenly a wind as high,

As ever swept a winter sky,

Shook the young leaves about her ears,
And fill'd her with a thousand fears,
Lest the rude blast should snap the bough,

And spread her golden hopes below.
But just at eve the blowing weather,
And all her fears were hush'd together:
And now, quoth poor unthinking Ralph,
'Tis over, and the brood is safe;