Humbly though my dwelling lie, Next door neighbour to the earth; Rank, though lifted ne'er so high, Cannot soar like humble worth : Tirral-la! Shall I silently repine When these birds of loftier airs Say no parent race of mine Built a nest as high as theirs? Give me but a summer morn, And the richest plumage born Through the azure halls of day R. CLAY, PRINTER, LONDON. |