THE DOG AND THE WATER LILY. NO FABLE. THE noon was shady, and soft airs My spaniel, prettiest of his race, (Two nymphs* adorn'd with ev'ry grace 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 With cane extended far I sought * Sir Robert Gunning's daughters. But still the prize, though nearly caught, Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains With fix'd consid❜rate face, And puzzling set his puppy brains But with a cherup clear and strong, I thence withdrew, and follow'd long My ramble ended, I return'd; I saw him with that lily cropp'd My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd Charm'd with the sight, the world, I cried, Shall hear of this thy deed: My dog shall mortify the pride Of man's superiour breed: But chief myself I will enjoin, To show a love as prompt as thine 232 THE POET, THE OYSTER, &c. If all the plants, that can be found Should droop and wither where they grow, His censure reach'd them as he dealt it, ◆nd each by shrinking show'd he felt it. THE SHRUBBERY. WRITTEN IN A TIME OF AFFLICTION. I. OH, happy shades-to me unblest! How ill the scene that offers rest, This glassy stream, that spreading pine, But fix'd unalterable Care Foregoes not what she feels within Shows the same sadness ev'ry where, And slights the season and the scene. IV. For all that pleas'd in wood or lawn, Her animating smile withdrawn, Has lost its beauties and its pow'rs, |