For, aided both by ear and scent,
Right to his mark the monster went—
Ah, Muse! forbear to speak
Minute the horrors that enfued;
His teeth were strong, the cage was wood-
He left poor Bully's beak.
O had he made that too his prey!
That beak, whence iffued many a lay
Of fuch mellifluous tone,
Might have repaid him well, I wote,
For filencing so sweet a throat,
Faft ftuck within his own.
Maria weeps, the Muses mourn;—
So when, by Bacchanalians torn,
On Thracian Hebrus' fide
The tree-enchanter Orpheus fell,
His head alone remain'd to tell
The cruel death he died.
HE rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower,
Which Mary to Anna convey'd,
The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flower, And weigh'd down its beautiful head.
The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet,
And it seem'd to a fanciful view
To weep for the buds it had left with regret
On the flourishing bush where it
I hastily seized it, unfit as it was
For a nofegay, fo dripping and drown'd,
And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas!
I fnapp'd it, it fell to the ground.
And fuch, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part
Some act by the delicate mind,
Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart
Already to forrow refign'd.
This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,
Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile; And the tear, that is wiped with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.
EASONING at every step he treads,
Man yet mistakes his way,
While meaner things, whom instinct
leads,
Are rarely known to stray.
One filent eve I wander'd late,
And heard the voice of love;
The turtle thus addreff'd her mate,
And foothed the listening dove:
Our mutual bond of faith and truth
No time shall difengage,
Those bleffings of our early youth
Shall cheer our latest age:
While innocence without disguise
And conftancy fincere,
Shall fill the circles of thofe eyes,
And mine can read them there;
Those ills, that wait on all below,
Shall ne'er be felt by me,
Or gently felt, and only so,
As being shared with thee.
When lightnings flash among the trees,
Or kites are hovering near,
I fear left thee alone they feize,
And know no other fear.
'Tis then I feel myself a wife,
And prefs thy wedded side,
Refolved a union form'd for life
Death never shall divide.
But oh! if, fickle and unchafte,
(Forgive a tranfient thought)
Thou couldft become unkind at last,
And fcorn thy prefent lot,
No need of lightnings from on high, Or kites with cruel beak;
Denied the endearments of thine eye, This widow'd heart would break.
Thus fang the sweet fequefter'd bird, Soft as the paffing wind,
And I recorded what I heard,
A leffon for mankind.
RAVEN while with gloffy breast
Her new-laid eggs fhe fondly preff'd,
And, on her wickerwork high mounted,
Her chickens prematurely counted
(A fault philofophers might blame
If quite exempted from the fame),
Enjoy'd at ease the genial day;
'Twas April, as the bumpkins say,
The legislature call'd it May.
But fuddenly a wind, as high
As ever swept a winter sky,
Shook the young leaves about her ears,
And fill'd her with a thousand fears,
Left the rude blast should snap the bough,
And spread her golden hopes below.
But juft at eve the blowing weather
And all her fears were hufh'd together:
And now, quoth poor unthinking Ralph,
'Tis over, and the brood is fafe;
(For ravens, though, as birds of omen,
They teach both conjurers and old women
To tell us what is to befall,
Can't prophefy themselves at all.)
The morning came, when neighbour Hodge,
Who long had mark'd her airy lodge,
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