« AnteriorContinuar »
The REDBREAST and the BUTTERFLY.
Art thou the Bird whom Man loves best,
Our little English Robin ;
Their Thomas in Finland,
And Russia far inland? The Bird, whom by some name or other All men who know thee call their Brother, The Darling of Children and men? Could Father Adam open his eyes, And see this sight beneath the skies, He'd wish to close them again.
If the Butterfly knew but his friend
Our consecrated Robin!
So painfully in the wood?
What ail'd thee Robin that thou could’st pursue
A beautiful Creature,
The Chearer Thou of our in-door sadness, He is the Friend of our summer gladness:
What hinders, then, that ye should be · Playmates in the sunny weather,
And fly about in the air together?
THE SAILOR'S MOTHER.
One morning (raw it was and wet,
Majestic in her person, tall and straight;
The ancient Spirit is not dead;
She begg'd an alms, like one in poor estate; I look'd at her again, nor did my pride abate.
When from these lofty thoughts I woke,
She answer'd soon as she the question heard, 22ÂÒ2Âēmēģ222222/2/2?Â?2ti22m/?titiņ2–2?ti?\?
And, thus continuing, she said,
And I have been as far as Hull, to see
The Bird and Cage they both were his;
This Singing-bird hath gone with him;
When last he sail'd he left the Bird behind; As it might be, perhaps, from bodings of his mind.