THE DOG AND THE WATERLILY. NO FABLE. THE noon was shady, and soft airs My spaniel, prettiest of his race, (Two nymphs adorn'd with every grace That spaniel found for me), Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds, Now starting into sight Pursued the swallow o'er the meads It was the time when Ouse display'd And one I wish'd my own. With cane extended far I sought But still the prize, though nearly caught, 40 THE DOG AND THE WATERLILY. Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains But with a cherup clear and strong, I thence withdrew, and follow'd long My ramble ended, I return'd: The floating wreath again discern'd, I saw him with that lily cropp'd Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd The treasure at my feet, Charm'd with the sight, The world, I cried, Shall hear of this thy deed: My dog shall mortify the pride But chief myself I will enjoin, To show a love as prompt as thine To Him who gives me all. KILLING A YOUNG BIRD. 1793. A SPANIEL, Beau, that fares like you, But you have kill'd a tiny bird, Against my orders, whom you Nor did you kill that heard you might eat And ease a doggish pain, For him, though chased with furious heat, You left where he was slain. Nor was he of the thievish sort, BEAU'S REPLY. SIR, when I flew to seize the bird In spite of your command, A louder voice than yours I heard, 42 ON A SPANIEL, CALLED BEAU. You cried-Forbear-but in my breast 'Twas Nature, Sir, whose strong behest Yet much as Nature I respect, And when your linnet on a day, Had flutter'd all his strength away, Well knowing him a sacred thing, I only kiss'd his ruffled wing, Let my obedience then excuse My disobedience now, Nor some reproof yourself refuse If killing birds be such a crime What think you, Sir, of killing Time THE DOVES. REASONING at every step he treads, While meaner things, whom instinct leads, One silent eve I wander'd late, Our mutual bond of faith and truth While innocence without disguise, Shall fill the circles of those eyes, And mine can read them there. Those ills, that wait on all below, |