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No;-Soon as from ashore he saw

The winged mansion move, He flew to reach it, by a law

Of never-failing love.
Then perching at his consort's side,

Was briskly borne along,
The billows and the blast defied,

And cheer'd her with a song.
The seaman with sincere delight

His feather'd shipmates eyes, Scarce less exulting in the sight

Than when he tows a prize.

For seamen much believe in signs,

And from a chance so new Each some approaching good divines,

And may his hopes be true!

Hail, honour'd land! a desert where

Not even birds can hide, Yet parent of this loving pair

Whom nothing could divide.

with man;

And ye who, rather than resign

Your matrimonial plan, Were not afraid to plough the brine In

company For whose lean country much disdain

We English often show,
Yet from a richer nothing gain

But wantonness and woe;

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Dear architect of fine CHATZAUX

Worthier to stand for ever, if the

Than any built of stone, or yet o For back of royal elephant to bear O for permission from the skies to

Much to my own, though little to

With thee, (not subject to the jea A partnership of literary ware !

This tale is founded on an article of in author found in the Buckinghamshire H June 1, 1793, in the following words.

" In a block, or pulley, near the head of now lying at the Broomielaw, there is a chat eggs. The nest was built while the vessel was followed hither by both birds. Thoug sionally lowered for the inspection of the have not forsaken the nest. The cock how but seldom; while the hen never leaves it, scends to the hull for food."

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obedience then excuse
disobedience now,
me reproof yourself refuse
in your aggrieved bow-wow;

ng birds be such a crime,
nich I can hardly see,)
think you, sir, of killing time
b verse address'd to me?

ANSWER

AS ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH,

BY MISS CATHARINE FANSHAWE,

A POEM OF MR. COW PER’S, LENT TO HER ON CONDITION HOULD NEITHER SHOW IT, NOR TAKE A COPY.

remember'd thus is fame, in the first degree;

the few like her the same, press might sleep for me. er, in the memory stored ny a Grecian belle,

preserved a richer hoard, ver lodged so well.

В.

Be it your fortune, year by year,

The same resource to prove,
And may ye, sometimes landing here,

Instruct us how to love'!

Ba

TH

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.

JUNE 29, 1793.

DEAR architect of fine chATEAUX in air,

Worthier to stand for ever, if they could,
Than

any built of stone, or yet of wood,
For back of royal elephant to bear ;
O for permission from the skies to share,

Much to my own, though little to thy good,

With thee, (not subject to the jealous mood ! A partnership of literary ware!

| This tale is founded on an article of intelligence which the author found in the Buckinghamshire Herald, for Saturday, June 1, 1793, in the following words.

Glasgow, May 23. In a block, or pulley, near the head of the mast of a gabert, now lying at the Broomielaw, there is a chaffinch's nest and four eggs. The nest was built while the vessel lay at Greenock, and was followed hither by both birds. Though the block is oocasionally lowered for the inspection of the curious, the birds have not forsaken the nest. The cock however visits the nest but seldom; while the hen never leaves it, but when she descends to the hull for food.”

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But I am bankrupt now; and doom'd henceforth

To drudge, in descant dry, on others' lays ; Bards, I acknowledge, of unequall'd worth,

But what is commentator's happiest praise ? That he has furnish'd lights for other eyes, Which they who need them use, and then despise.

ON

A SPANIEL, CALLED BEAU,

KILLING A YOUNG BIRD.

JULY 15, 1793.

A SPANIEL, Beau, that fares like you,

Well fed, and at his ease,
Should wiser be than to pursue

Each trifle that he sees.
But you have kill'd a tiny bird,

Which flew not till to-day,
Against my orders, whom you heard

Forbidding you the prey.
Nor did

you

kill that you might eat,
And ease a doggish pain,
For him, though chased with furious heat,

You left where he was slain.
Nor was he of the thievish sort,

Or one whom blood allures,
But innocent was all his sport

Whom you have torn for yours.
.-10.

S. C.

G

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