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LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED;
THUS says the prophet of the Turk,
Each thinks his neighbour makes too free,
MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S
YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red
O share Maria's grief!
Assassined by a thief.
Where Rhenos strays his vines among,
And though by nature mute,
Of Aageolet or Aute.
The honours of his ebon poll
His bosom of the hue
To sweep up all the dew.
Above, below, in all the house,
No cat had leave to dwell;
Large-built and latticed well.
Well-latticed---but the grate, alas!
For Bully's plumage sake,
The swains their baskets make.
Night veiled the pole. All seemed secure.
Subsistence to provide,
And badger-coloured hide.
He entering at the study-door,
And something in the wind
Food chiefly for the mind.
Just then, by adverse fate impressed,
In sleep he seemed to view
Awoke and found it true.
For, aided both by ear and scent,
Ah, muse! forbear to speak!
He left poor Bully's beak.
He left it---but he should have ta’en;
Of such mellifluous tone,
Fast set within his own.
Maria weeps---the Muses mourn---
On Thracian Hebrus' side
The cruel death he died.
Which Mary to Anna conveyed ;
And weighed down its beautiful head.
The cup was all filled, and the leaves were all wet,
And it seemed to a fanciful view,
On the fouishing bush where it grew.
I hastily seized it, unfit as it was,
For a nosegay, so dripping and drowned, And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas !
I snapped it, it fell to the ground.
And such, I exclaimed, is the pitiless part
Some act by a delicate mind,
Already to sorrow resigned.
This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,
Might have bloomed with its owner a while, And the tear, that is wiped with a little address,
May be followed perhaps by a smile.
Man yet mistakes his way,
One silent eve I wandered late,
And heard the voice of love;
And soothed the listening dove :
No time shall disengage,
Shall cheer our latest age:
While innocence without disguise
And constancy sincere,
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,
And know no other fear.
'Tis then I feel myself a wife,
And press thy wedded side, Resolved an union formed for life
Death never shall divide.
But oh! if fickle and unchaste,
(Forgive a transient thought) Thou could become unkind at last,
And scorn thy present lot,
Or kites with cruel beak;
This widowed heart would break.
Thus sang the sweet sequestered bird,
Soft as the passing wind, And I recorded what I heard,
A lesson for mankind.