TO A HEDGE SPARROW.
LITTLE flutterer! swiftly flying,
Here is none to harm thee near;
Kite, nor hawk, nor schoolboy prying;-
Little flutterer! cease to fear.
One who would protect thee ever
From the schoolboy, kite, and hawk,
Musing, now obtrudes, but never
Dreamt of plunder in his walk.
He no weasel, stealing slily,
Would permit thy eggs to take;
Nor the polecat, nor the wily
Adder, nor the speckl'd snake.
May no cuckoo, wand'ring near thee,
Lay her egg within thy nest;
Nor thy young ones, born to cheer thee,
Be destroyed by such a guest!
Little flutterer! swiftly flying,
Here is none to harm thee near r; Kite, nor hawk, nor schoolboy prying ;— Little flutterer cease to fear.
THE DEAD SPARROW.
TELL me not of joy! there's none,
Now my little sparrow's gone:
He would chirp and play with me;
He would hang his wing awhile-
Till at length he saw me smile
Oh! how sullen he would be!
He would catch a crumb, and then
Sporting, let it go again;
He from my lip
Would moisture sip;
He would from my trencher feed; Then would hop, and then would run, And cry "phillip" when he'd done!
Oh! whose heart can choose but bleed?
Oh! how eager would he fight,
And ne'er hurt, though he did bite!
No morn did pass,
He would sit, and mark and do
What I did; now ruffle all
His feathers o'er, now let them fall;
And then straightway sleek them too,
Now my faithful bird is
gone;
Oh! let mournful turtles* join
With loving redbreasts, and combine
To sing dirges o'er his stone!
THE FIRST SWALLOW.
gorse is yellow on the heath,
The banks with speedwell flowers are gay,
The oaks are budding, and, beneath,
The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath,
The silver wreath of May.
The welcome guest of settled Spring,
The swallow, too, has come at last;
Just at sunset, when thrushes sing,
I saw her dash, with rapid wing,
And hail'd her as she past.
Come, summer visitant, attach
To my reed roof your nest of clay,
And let my ear your music catch,
Low twittering underneath the thatch
At the grey dawn of day.
EPITAPH ON A TAME HARE.
HERE lies whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swifter greyhound follow;
Whose foot ne'er tainted morning's dew,
Nor ear heard huntsman's hallo;
Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nursed with tender care
* Turtles, turtle-doves.
Epitaph, inscription for a tomb.
And to domestic bounds confined,
Was still a wild Jack-hare.
Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance every night,
He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bite.
His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw,
Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With sand to scour his maw.
On twigs of hawthorn he regaled,
Or pippin's russet peel;
And when his juicy salads failed,
Sliced carrots pleased him well.
A turkey carpet was his lawn,
Whereon he lov'd to bound,
To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing his rump around.
His frisking was at evening hours,
For then he lost his fear,
But most before approaching showers
Or when a storm drew near.
Eight years and five round rolling moons
He thus saw steal away;
Dozing out all his idle noons,
And every night at play.
I kept him for his humor's sake,
For he would oft beguile
My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.
But now beneath this walnut shade,
He finds his long last home,
And waits, in snug concealment laid,
Till gentler Puss shall come.
She, still more aged, feels the shocks
From which no care can save;
And, partner once of Tiney's box,
Must soon partake his grave.
THE NAUTILUS.*
WHERE Southern suns and winds prevail,
And undulate the summer seas,
The Nautilus expands his sail,
And scuds before the freshening breeze.
Oft is a little squadron seen
Of mimic ships, all rigg'd complete;
Fancy might think the fairy-queen
Was sailing with her elfin fleet.
With how much beauty is design'd
Each channeled bark of purest white!
With orientt pearl each cabin‡ lined,
Varying with every change of light;
While with his little slender oars,
His silken sail and tapering mast,
The dauntless mariner explores
The dangers of the watery waste.
Prepar'd, should tempests rend the sky,
From harm his fragile bark to keep,
He furls his sail, his oars lays by,
And seeks his safety in the deep.
Then safe on ocean's shelly bed,
He hears the storm above him roar,
'Mid groves of coral glowing red,
And rocks o'erhung with madrepore.||
So let us catch life's favoring gale,
But if fate's adverse winds be rude,
Take calmly in the adventurous sail,
And find repose in solitude.
* A shellfish of tropical seas.
Orient (eastern), poet. for brilliant.
Cabin, cells into which the shell is divided. 8 Furls, takes in.
Madrepore, a kind of coral of a white color.
THE beams of April, ere it
A worm, scarce visible, disclose;
All winter long content to dwell
The tenant of his native shell.
The same prolific season gives
The sustenance by which he lives,
The mulberry-leaf, a simple store,
That serves him-till he needs no more!
For his dimensions once complete,
Thenceforth none ever sees him eat;
Though, till his growing-time be past,
Scarce ever is he seen to fast.
That hour arrived, his work begins;
He spins and weaves, and weaves and spins;
Till circle upon circle wound
Careless around him and around,
Conceals him with a veil, though slight,
Impervious to the keenest sight.
Thus self-enclosed, as in a cask,t
At length he finishes his task;
And, though a worm when he was lost,
Or caterpillar at the most,
When next we see him, wings he wears,
And in papiliot pomp appears;
Becomes oviparous§; supplies
With future worms and future flies
The next ensuing year!-and dies!
Well were it for the world, if all
Who creep about this earthly ball-
Though shorter-lived than most he be-
Were useful in their kind as he.
* Impervious, that cannot be pierced. + Cask, i.e., the cocoon. Papilio, butterfly. § Oviparous, egg-producing.
|