VI. When lightning's flash among the trees, Or kites are hov'ring near, I fear lest thee alone they seize, And know no other fear. VII. "Tis then I feel myself a wife, VIII. But oh! if fickle and unchaste, IX. No need of lightnings from on high, Denied th' endearments of thine eye, This widow'd heart would break. X: Thus sang the sweet sequester'd bird, Soft as the passing wind; And I recorded what I heard, A lesson for mankind. A FABLE. I. A RAVEN, while with glossy breast Shook the young leaves about her ears, (For ravens, though as birds of omen They teach both conj'rers and old women, To tell us what is to befall, Can't prophesy themselves at all.) The morning came, when neighbour Hodge, Who long had mark'd her airy lodge And destin'd all the treasure there MORAL. "Tis Providence alone secures In ev'ry change both mine and yours: From dangers of a frightful shape; A COMPARISON. THE lapse of time and rivers is the same, And a wide ocean swallows both at last. A diff'rence strikes at length the musing heart: ANOTHER. ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY. SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid Silent and chaste she steals along, Far from the world's gay busy throng; |