ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (now LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red Her fav'rite, even in his cage, (What will not hunger's cruel rage?) Assassin'd by a thief. Where Rhenus strays his vines among, Or only with a whistle blest, The honours of his ebon poll Were brighter than the sleekest mole; With which Aurora decks the skies, 214 LADY THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. Above, below, in all the house, Well-lattic'd-but the grate, alas! But smooth with wands from Ouse's side, 2 Night veil'd the pole, all seem'd secure : A beast forth sallied on the scout, Long-back'd, long-tail'd, with whisker'd snout, He, ent'ring at the study door, And something in the wind Just then, by adverse fate impress'd, LADY THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. 215 A rat fast clinging to the cage, For, aided both by ear and scent, O had he made that too his prey; Might have repaid him well, I wate, Maria weeps the Muses mourn→→→ The tree-enchanter Orpheus fell, The cruel death he died. THE ROSE. THE Rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flow'r, The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet, And it seem'd to a fanciful view, To weep for the buds it had left with regret, hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart This elegant rose, had I shaken it less, Might have bloom'd with its owner a while; And the tear, that is wip'd with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile. THE DOVES. I. REAS'NING at ev'ry step he treads, While meaner things, whom instinct leads, II. One silent eve I wander'd late, And heard the voice of love; The turtle thus address'd her mate, Our mutual bond of faith and truth Shall cheer our latest age: IV. While innocence without disguise, And constancy sincere, Shall fill the circles of those eyes, Those ills, that wait on all below, Or gently felt, and only so, VOL. I. |