238.

But

you have killed a tiny bird
Which flew not till to-day,
Against my orders, whom you heard
Forbidding you the prey.

Nor did you kill that 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,
Or one whom blood allures,
But innocent was all his sport
Whom you have torn for yours.

My dog! what remedy remains,
Since, teach you all I can,
I see you, after all my pains,
So much resemble man?

Beau's Reply

SIR, when I flew to seize the bird
In spite of your command,

A louder voice than yours I heard,
And harder to withstand.

You cried

Forbear!'- but in my

A mightier cried Proceed!'

W. Cowper

breast

'Twas Nature, sir, whose strong behest
Impelled me to the deed.

239.

Yet much as Nature I respect,
I ventured once to break
(As you perhaps may recollect)
Her precept for your sake;

And when your linnet on a day,
Passing his prison door,

Had fluttered all his strength away,
And panting pressed the floor,

Well knowing him a sacred thing,
Not destined to my tooth,

I only kissed his ruffled wing,

And licked the feathers smooth.

Let my obedience then excuse
My disobedience now,

Nor some reproof yourself refuse
From your aggrieved Bow-wow;

If killing birds be such a crime
(Which I can hardly see),

What think you, sir, of killing Time
With verse addressed to me?

W. Cowpe

The Dog and the Water-Lily

THE

HE noon was shady, and soft airs
Swept Ouse's silent tide,

When, 'scaped from literary cares,

I wander'd on his side.

My spaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree,-

(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
With scarce a slower flight.

It was the time when Ouse display'd
His lilies newly blown;
Their beauties I intent survey'd,

And one I wish'd my own.

With cane extended far, I sought
To steer it close to land;

But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escaped my eager hand.

Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains
With fix'd considerate face,

And puzzling set his puppy brains
To comprehend the case.

But with a cherup clear and strong
Dispersing all his dream,

I thence withdrew, and follow'd long
The windings of the stream.

240.

My ramble ended, I return'd;
Beau, trotting far before,

The floating wreath again discern'd,
And plunging left the shore.

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
Of man's superior breed;

'But chief myself I will enjoin,
Awake at duty's call,

To show a love as prompt as thine
To Him who gives me all.'

W. Cowper

OH!

On a Tear

H! that the Chemist's magic art
Could crystallize this sacred treasure!
Long should it glitter near my heart,
A secret source of pensive pleasure.

The little brilliant, ere it fell,
Its lustre caught from Chloe's eye;
Then, trembling, left its coral cell-
The spring of Sensibility!

241.

Sweet drop of pure and pearly light!
In thee the rays of Virtue shine;
More calmly clear, more mildly bright,
Than any gem that gilds the mine.

Benign restorer of the soul!

Who ever fly'st to bring relief,

When first we feel the rude controul
Of Love or Pity, Joy or Grief.

The sage's and the poet's theme,
In every clime, in every age;
Thou charm'st in Fancy's idle dream,
In Reason's philosophic page.

That very law which moulds a tear,
And bids it trickle from its source,
That law preserves the earth a sphere,
And guides the planets in their course.

S. Rogers

Cavalier's Song

IF doughty deeds my lady please,

Right soon I'll mount my steed;
And strong his arm, and fast his seat,
That bears frae me the meed.

I'll wear thy colours in my cap,

Thy picture in my heart;

And he that bends not to thine eye
Shall rue it to his smart!