In sleep he seem'd to view
A rat fast clinging to the cage,
And, screaming at the sad presage,

Awoke and found it true.

For, aided both by ear and scent,
Right to his mark the monster went-

Ah, Muse! forbear to speak
Minute the horrors that ensued ;
His teeth were strong, the cage was wood

He left poor Bully's beak.

O bad he made that too his prey !
That beak, whence issued many a lay

Of such mellifluous tone,
Might have repaid him well, I wote,
For silencing so sweet a throat,

Fast stuck within his own.

Maria weeps—the Muses mourn
So when, by Bacchanalians torn,

On Thracian Hebrus' side
The tree-enchanter Orpheus fell,
His head alone remain'd to tell

The cruel death he died.

THE ROSE.

The rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a

Which Mary to Anna convey'd, [shower, 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 grew.

I hastily seized it, unfit as it was

For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas !

I snapp'd it, it fell to the ground.

And such, I exclaim’d, is the pitiless part

Some act by the delicate mind,
Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart

Already to sorrow resign'd.

This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,

Might have bloom'd with its owner a while; And the tear, that is wiped with a little address

May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.

a

THE DOVES.

REASONING at every step he treads,

Man yet mistakes his way, While meaner things, whom instinct leads,

Are rarely known to stray.

One silent eve I wanderd late,

And heard the voice of love ; The turtle thus address'd her mate,

And soothed the listening dove :

Our mutual bond of faith and truth

No time shall disengage,
Those blessings of our early youth

Shall cheer our latest age :

While innocence without disguise

And constancy sincere,
Shall fill the circles of those 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 lest thee alone they seize,

And know no other fear.

"Tis then I feel myself a wife,

And press thy wedded side, Resolved a union form'd for life

Death never shall divide.

But oh ! if, fickle and unchaste,

(Forgive a transient thought) Thou couldst become unkind at last,

And scorn thy present 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 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
Her new-laid eggs she fondly press’d,
And, on her wickerwork high mounted,
Her chickens prematurely counted
(A fault philosophers might blame
If quite exempted from the same),
Enjoy'd at ease the genial day;
'Twas April, as the bumpkins say,
The legislature call’d it May.
But suddenly 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, Lest the rude blast should snap the bough, And spread her golden hopes below. But just at eve the blowing weather And all her fears were hush'd together : And now, quoth poor unthinking Ralph, 'Tis over, and the brood is safe (For ravens, though, as birds of omen, They teach both conjurers and old women To tell us what is to befall, Can't prophesy themselves at all.) The morning came, when neighbour Hodge, Who long had mark'd her airy lodge,