A last year's bird, who ne'er had tried By his good will, would keep us fingle 'Till yonder heav'n and earth fhall mingle, Or (which is likelier to befall) 'Till death exterminate us all. I marry without more ado, My dear Dick Redcap, what fay you? Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling, Turning fhort round, ftrutting and fideling, Attefted, glad, his approbation. Of an immediate conjugation. Influenc'd mightily the rest, All pair'd, and each pair built a neft. But though the birds were thus in haste, The leaves came on not quite so fast, And destiny, that fometimes bears An aspect ftern on man's affairs, Not altogether fmil'd on theirs. The wind, of late breath'd gently forth, Bare trees and fhrubs but ill, you know, Stepping into their nefts, they paddled, Soon ev'ry father bird and mother Grew quarrelfome, and peck'd each other, Parted without the leaft regret, Except that they had ever met, Than to neglect a good adviser. INSTRUCTION, Miffes! the tale that I relate This leffon feems to carry Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry. THE NEEDLESS ALAR M. Α TALE. THERE is a field through which I often pass, Thick overfpread with mofs and filky grafs, Adjoining close to. Kilwick's echoing wood, Where oft the bitch-fox hides her hapless brood, Referv'd to folace many a neighb'ring 'fquire, That he may follow them through brake and briar, Which rural gentlemen call sport divine. Bricks line the fides, but fhiver'd long ago, Not yet the hawthorn bore her berries red, With tails high mounted, ears hung low, and throats Though ears she gave me two, gave me no ear. His lamp now planted on heav'n's topmoft arch, And heedlefs whither, to that field I came, Ere yet with ruthlefs joy the happy hound Told hill and dale that Reynard's track was found, 8 Or with the high-rais'd horn's melodious clang Sheep graz'd the field; fome with soft bosom prefs'd But when the huntfman, with diftended cheek, Admiring, terrified, the novel ftrain, Then cours'd the field around, and cours'd it round again; But, recollecting with a sudden thought, That flight in circles urg'd advanc'd them nought, *Two woods belonging to John Throckmorton, Efq. |