Whose idle tricks there naught was new in,

For soon he found 'twas lazy Bruin,

Who then had left his master's sheep,

A truant holiday to keep.

"How now!" said Tray, "why this way bend?

Your evil ways you'll never mend ;

Again you've left your master's home,
In idleness at large to roam!

I know it by your sneaking look,
That's now reflected in the brook ;
Observe it, do-behold that face,
Which indicates your vile disgrace!
For shame! for shame! return again,
'Twill save you from a world of pain."

"I won't!" replied the faithless dog, "For I care not how much they flog. And what's my flight, I pray, to you? Whate'er I wish I always do;

So, mind your sheep, you foolish knave,
And, if you like it, be a slave !”

66

"A slave!" exclaim'd the faithful Tray,

'Begone! insulting cur! away;

For I'm no slave: my own free will

My task inclines me to fulfil ;

And yonder cunning fox I see

Shall now receive his death from me.

Away ran Tray with all his speed,

And soon he made sly Reynard bleed ;
No more the flock that foe will dread,
For now the wily creature's dead!

In time to view his mangled plight, The Shepherd Boy returned in sight, And cried, "You bravely stood the test, And proved yourself of dogs the best, My very true and faithful Tray!

And from this bright, unclouded day,
Alike the fate of each shall be,

And you shall dwell at ease with me.
Though I should roam the country wide,
No change of scene shall us divide;
But for that worthless Bruin there,
Another lot he's doom'd to bear:
A galling chain shall keep him fast!
Disgrac'd he'll live; and when, at last,
Old age shall stop his vital breath,
His shame will live e'en after death."

And so with all who do not show

The duty they to others owe;
For none can gain a worthy name,
If honest zeal be not their aim!

WITHIN a grove of beechen trees,
Fann'd gently by the passing breeze,
A pair of fondest turtle doves

Recounted o'er their early loves;

Dwelling on ev'ry simple thing.

When first they soar'd on youthful wing

And learnt to fly, to bill and coo,

And then progressively to woo;

Each playful frolic did they scan,
And thus their conversation ran :-

"Do you remember, love, that day,"Twas in the fairy month of May,— When you and I together flew

Where hawthorn trees in numbers grew,
Whose blossoms, sporting with the gale,
Then sweetly scented all the vale ?
'Twas there I press'd you, love, to share
My verdant home and humble fare,
And you, to hush my fears to rest,
Agreed with me to build our nest.

For this we chose the shady grove

Which now contains what most we love."

"Do I remember, gentle dove ?—

I never can forget your love;

And happy, dearest, shall I be,

On that day's anniversary,

To seek again the sylvan vale,

And hear once more so sweet a tale!"

"Then let us haste, dear love, away:

For this is that revolving day

When we exchang'd our mutual vows Upon the hawthorn's blooming boughs."

F

Away they flew the woodlands o'er,
Not thinking they should soon deplore
A visit to that much lov'd scene

Where they so oft had happy been:
But who can tell their future doom,

Or when gay mirth may change to gloom ?—
Their fleeting joys, before the morrow,

Have place to unavailing sorrow.

A wily Kite as hovʼring near,

He chanc'd their speech to overhear,
Mark'd when they sought the valley gay,
Then darted down and seiz'd his prey,
And bore the younglings far away.

With anxious looks, and ill at rest,
The Doves return'd to seek their nest.
Flying around their fav'rite tree,
A gory sight was there to see!

66 Alas!" exclaim'd the female dove,
"Look what has happen'd, dearest love.
Our young are gone-too surely dead
While we for pleasure idly fled
To yonder vale. How careless we,
To leave our young in infancy!
Now let us seek some lonely bow'r,
. And there await our last sad hour;