VIII. AN ENIGMA. A NEEDLE small as small can be, Nor is my purchase dear; As days are in the year. Yet though but little use we boast, The labour is not light; To fashion us aright. One fuses metal o'er the fire, The shears another plies, A fifth prepares, exact and round, His follower makes it fast: The seventh and the last. 253 SPARROWS SELF DOMESTICATED. A process, that obtains And take me for your pains ! IX. SPARROWS SELF DOMESTICATED IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. NONE ever shared the social feast, They flock from all the fields around, Arrived, the pensionary band, X. FAMILIARITY DANGEROUS, As in her ancient mistress' lap The youthful tabby lay, Alike disposed to play. Mere wantonness the cause. At once, resentful of the deed, She shakes her to the ground, With many a threat that she shall bleed With still a deeper wound. It was a venial stroke; Should bear a kitten's joke. XI. INVITATION TO THE REDBREAST. And seldom another it can - In the well shelter'd dwellings'of man, Who never can seem to intrude, i Though in all places equally free, Come, oft as the season is rude, Thou art sure to be welcome to me. At sight of the first feeble ray, That pierces the clouds of the east, To’inveigle thee every day My windows shall show thee a feast.. For, taught by experience, I know Thee mindful of benefit long; And that, thankful for all I bestow, Thou wilt pay me with many a song. Then, soon as the swell of the buds. Bespeaks the renewal of spring, Or where it shall please thee to sing : Come again to my window or door, Doubt not an affectionate host, Only pay as thou paidst me before. . Thus music must needs be confess'd To flow from a fountain above; Else how should it work in the breast Unchangeable friendship and love? And who on the globe can be found, Save your generation and ours, That can be delighted by sound, Or boasts any musical powers? · XII. STRADA'S NIGHTINGALE. The shepherd touch'd his reed; sweet Philomel Essay'd, and oft essay'd to catch the strain, And treasuring, as on her ear they fell, The numbers echo'd note for note again. The peevish youth, who ne'er had found before A rival of his skill, indignant heard, In loftier tones defied the simple bird. She dared the task, and rising, as he rose, With all the force that passion gives inspired, Return'd the sounds awhile, but, in the close, Exhausted fell, and at his feet expired. Thus strength, not skill prevail'd. O fatal strise, By thee, poor songstress, playfully begun; And 0, sad victory, which cost thy life, · And he may wish that he had never won! |