"Tis clear that they were always able Must have a most uncommon skull. It chanc'd then on a winter's day, To forestall sweet St. Valentine, In many an orchard, copse, and grove, And with much twitter and much chatter, Began to agitate the matter. At length a Bulfinch, who could boast My friends be cautious how ye treat 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 Opposite in the apple tree, By his good will would keep us single 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 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 smil'd 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 chill'd, 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 never met; And learn'd, in future, to be wiser Than to neglect a good adviser. MORAL. Misses the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry- THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY. NO FABLE. THE noon was shady, and soft airs My spaniel, prettiest of his race, And high in pedigree, (Two nymphs* adorn'd with ev'ry grace That spaniel found for me.) Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds, With scarce a slower flight. It was the time when Ouse display'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. * Sir Robert Gunning's daughters. Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains But with a cherup clear and strong, I thence withdrew, and follow'd long My ramble ended, I return'd; The floating wreath again discern'd, I saw him with that lily cropp'd, My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd Charm'd with the sight, the world, I cried But chief myself I will enjoin, To show a love as prompt as thine, THE POET, THE OYSTER, AND SENSITIVE PLANT. AN Oyster, cast upon the shore, Was heard, though never heard before, Complaining in a speech well worded. Ah, hapless wretch condemned to dwell For ever in my native shell; Ordain'd to move when others please, Not for my own content or ease : I envy that unfeeling shrub, When, cry the botanists, and stare, To make them grow just where she chooses You that are but almost a fish, And when I bend, retire, and shrink, In being touch'd, and crying-Don't! |