Where Rhenus strays his vines among, Or only with a whistle blest, Well taught he all the sounds express'd The honours of his ebon poll Were brighter than the sleekest mole, With which Aurora decks the skies Above, below, in all the house, Well lattic'd-but the grate, alas! But smooth with wands from Ouse's side, Night veil'd the pole; all seem'd secure, A beast forth sallied on the scout, Long-back'd, long-tail'd, with whisker'd snout, And badger-colour'd hide. He, ent'ring at the study door And something in the wind Conjectur'd, sniffing round and round, Just then, by adverse fate impress'd, For aided both by ear and scent, His teeth were strong, the cage was wood- O had he made that too his prey; Might have repaid him well I wote, Maria weeps the muses mourn— THE ROSE. The Rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r Which Mary to Anna convey'd, The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flow'r And weigh'd down its beautiful head. The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet, To weep for the buds it had left with regret, I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart This elegant rose, had I shaken it less, Might have bloom'd with its owner a while; And the tear that is wip'd with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile THE DOVES. I. REAS'NING at ev'ry step he treads, While meaner things, whom instinct leads, II. One silent eve I wander'd late, And heard the voice of love: III. Our mutual bond of faith and truth, 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, V. Those ills that wait on all below, 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, 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, Denied th' endearments of thine eye, .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 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, Can't prophesy themselves at ali ;) The morning came, when neighbour Hodge Who long had mark'd her airy lodge, |