And with much twitter and much chatter,
Began to agitate the matter.
At length a Bulfinch, who could boast

and wisdom than the most,
Entreated, op'ning wide his beak,
A moment's liberty to speak;
And, silence publickly enjoin'd,
Deliver'd briefly thus his mind.

My friends! be cautious how yề treat
The subject, upon which we meet;
I fear we shall have winter yet.

A Finch, whose tongue knew no control,
With golden wing, and satin poll,
A last year's bird, who ne'er had tried
What marriage means, thus pert replied:

Methinks the gentleman, quoth she,
Opposite in the apple-tree,
By his good will would keep us single
Till yonder Heav'n and Earth shall mingle,
Or (which is likelier to befall)
Till death exterminate us all.

without more ado,
My dear Dick Redcap, what say you? 6

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Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling, Turning short round, strutting and sideling, Attested, glad, his approbation Of an immediate conjugation. Their sentiments so well express'd Influenc'd mightily the rest, All pair'd, 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 smild on theirs. The wind, of late breath'd 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 chilld, their eggs were addled; Soon ev'ry father bird and mother Grew quarrelsome, and peck'd each other, Parted without the least regret, Except that they had ever met, And learn'd in future to be wiser, Than to neglect a good adviser.



Misses! the tale that I relate

This lesson seems to carry-
Choose not alone a proper mate,

But proper time to marry.



The noon was shady, and soft airs

Swept Ouse's silent tide,
When, 'scap'd from literary cares,

I wander'd on his side.

My spaniel, prettiest of his race,

And high in pedigree,
(Two nymphs * adorn’d with ev'ry grace

That spaniel found for me)

* Sir Robert Gunning's daughters.

Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds,

Now starting into sight,
Pursued the swallow o'er the meads

With scarce a slower flight.

It was the time when Ouse display'd

His lilies newly blown;
Their beauties I intent survey'd,

And one I wish'd my own.

With cane extended far I sought

To steer it close to land; But still the prize, though nearly caught,

Escap'd my eager hand.

Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains

With fix'd consid’rate face,
And puzzling set his puppy brains

To comprehend the case.

But with a cherup clear and strong,

Dispersing all his dream,
I thence withdrew, and follow'd long

The windings of the stream.

My ramble ended, I return'd;

Beau, trotting far before,
The floating wreath again discern’d,

And plunging left the shore.

I saw him with that lily cropp'd

Impatient'swim to meet
My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd
The treasure at my


Charn’d with the sight, the world, I cried,

Shall hear of this thy deed: My dog shall mortify the pride

Of man's superior breed:


But chief myself I will enjoin,

Awake at duty's call,
To show a love as prompt as thine

To Him who gives me all,

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