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In and out, he darts about;
What ailed thee, Robin, that thou could'st pursue A beautiful Creature, That is gentle by nature? Beneath the summer sky From flower to flower let him fly; Tis all that he wishes to do. The Cheerer Thou of our in-door sadness, He is the Friend of our summer gladness: What hinders, then, that ye should be Phymates in the sunny weather, All fly about in the air together! He beautiful wings in crimson are drest, A crimson as bright as thine own: lithou would'st be happy in thy nest, 0 pious Bird! whom man loves best, love him or leave him alone!
THE KITTEN AND
THE FALLING LEAVES.
That way look, my Infant, lo: What a pretty baby show ! See the Kitten on the Wall, Soting with the leaves that fall, "*" leaves—one-two—and three– From the lossy Elder-treet Through the calm and frosty air, of his morning bright and fair, Bllying round and round they sink &lly, slowly: one might think, on the motions that are made, Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Faery hither tending, — To this lower world descending, oth invisible and mute, In his wavering parachute. -But the Kitten, how she starts, Couches stretches, paws, and darts: * At one, and then its fellow Just as light and just as yellow; * * many now—now one — Now *y top and there are none; What intensenes of desire her upward eye of fire! wo * tiger-leap half way OW se meets the coming prey, Lets t go as fast, and then " in her power again:
Now she works with three or four,
'T is a pretty Baby-treat; Nor, I deem, for me unmeet; Here, for neither Babe nor me, Other Play-mate can I see. Of the countless living things, That with stir of feet and wings (In the sun or under shade, Upon bough or grassy blade) And with busy revellings, Chirp and song, and murmurings, Made this Orchard's narrow space, And this Vale so blithe a place; Multitudes are swept away, Never more to breathe the day: Some are sleeping; some in Bands Travelled into distant Lands; Others slunk to moor and wood, Far from human neighbourhood; And, among the Kinds that keep With us closer fellowship, With us openly abide, All have laid their mirth aside. – Where is he that giddy Sprue, Blue cap, with his colours bright, Who was blest as bird could be, Feeding in the apple-tree; Made such wanton spoil and rout, Turning blossoms inside out; Hung with head towards the ground, Fluttered, perched, into a round Bound himself, and then unbound; Lithest, gaudiest Harlequin Prettiest Tumbler ever seen . Light of heart and light of limb; What is now become of Him? Lambs, that through the mountains went Frisking, bleating merriment, When the year was in its prime, They are sobered by this time. If you look to vale or hill, If you listen, ai. 's still, Save a little neighbouring Rill, That from out the rocky ground Strikes a solitary sound.
Vainly glitter hill and plain,
Yet, whate'er enjoyments dwell
A FLOWER GARDEN.
TELL me, ye Zephyrs that unfold,
Say, when the moving Creatures saw
Or peeped they often from their beds
All Summer long the happy Eve
Yet, where the guardian Fence is wound,
And, though the jealous turf refuse By random footsteps to be prest, And feeds on never-sullied dews, Ye, gentle breezes from the West, With all the ministers of Hope, Are tempted to this sunny slope :
And hither throngs of birds resort; Some, inmates lodged in shady nests, Some, perched on stems of stately port That nod to welcome transient guests; While Hare and Leveret, seen at play, Appear not more shut out than they.
Apt emblem (for reproof of pride)
Thus spake the moral Muse — her wing