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A great economist was she,
poverty the loss of friends.
With anxious steps to tread the ground;
And drag the heavy load with pain. 5. The active Bee with pleasure saw
The Ant fulfil a parent's law.
Nor know the wants of pride and state." 6. Why is our food so very sweet ?
Because we earn before we eat.
Because we act our parts assign d. 7. Have we incessant tasks to do?
Is not all nature busy too ?
1. REAS’NING at ev'ry step he treads,
Man yet mistakes his way,
Are rarely known to stray.
2. One silent eve I wander'd late,
And heard the voice of love;
And sooth'd the list'ning dove:
No time shall disengage ;
Shall cheer our latest age.
And constancy sincere,
And mine can read them there ; 5. “ Those ills that wait on all below
Shall ne'er be felt by me, Or gently felt, and only so,
As being shar'd with thee.
Or bites are hav'rino near
And know no other fear.
7. “ 'Tis then I feel myself a wife,
And press thy wedded side, Resolv'd a union form’d for life
Death never shall divide.
8. “But, Oh! if fickle and unchaste,
(Forgive a transient thought,) Thou could'st become unkind at last,
And scorn thy present lot :
Or kites with cruel beak ;
This widow'd heart would break.'
10. Thus sang the sweet sequester'd bird,
Soft as the passing wind; And I recorded what I heard,
A lesson for mankind.
The Goldfinches. 1. All in a garden, on a currant bush,
Two Goldfinches had built their airy seat; In the next orchard liv'd a friendly thrush,
Nor distant far, a woodlark's soft retreat. 2. Here, blest with ease, and in each othér blest
With early songs they wak'd the neighb’ring groves; Till time matur’d their joy, and crown'd their nest,
With infant pledges of their faithful loves. 3. And now, what transport glow'd in either's eye!
What equal fondness dealt th' allotted food! What joy each other's likeness to descry,
And future sonnets in the chirping brood ! 4. But ah! what earthly happiness can last ?
How does the fairest purpose often fail !
Their flattering hopes, and leave them both to wail. 5. The most ungentle of his tribe was he;
No gen'rous precept ever touch'd his heart : With concord false and hideous prosody,
He scrawld his task, and blunder'd o'er his part. 6. On mischief bent, he mark’d with rav’nous eyes,
Where, wrapt in down, the callow songsters lay; Then rushing, rudely seiz'd the glitt’ring prize,
And bore it, in his impious hands away! 7. But how shall I describe, in numbers rude,
' The pangs for poor Chrysomitris decreed, When from her secret stand, aghast, she view'd
The cruel spoiler perpetrate the deed ? 8. "O grief of griefs!" with shrieking voice she cried,
“What sight is this that I have liv'd to see! O! that I had in youth's fair season died,
From all false joys, and bitter sorrows free. 9. Was it for this, alas! with weary bill,
Was it for this I pois’d the unwieldy straw ? For this I bore the moss from yonder hill,
Nor shunn'd the pond'rous stick along to draw ! 10. Was it for this I pick'd the wool with
Intent with nicer skill our work to crown ?
For this, with pain, I bent the stubborn hair,
And lin'd our cradle with the thistle's down! 11. Was it for this my freedom I resign'd,
And ceas'd to rove at large from plain to plain ; For this I sat at home whole days confin'd,
To bear the scorching heat, and pealing rain ? 12. Was it for this my watchful eyes grew dim ?
For this the roses on my cheek turn pale ? Pale is thy golden plumage, once so trim,
And all my wonted mirth and spirits fail!" 13. Thus sung the mournful bird her piteous tale ;
The piteous tale her mournful mate return'd: Then side by side they sought the distant vale, And there in secret sadness inly mourn'd.
The pet Lamb. 1. The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink;
I hear'd a voice; it said, “Drink, pretty creature, drink!" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied,
A snow white mountain Lamb, with a maiden at its side. %. No other sheep were near, the Lamb was all alone,
And by a slender cord, was tether’d to a stone; With one knee on the grass did the little maiden kneel,
While to the mountain Lamb she gave its evening meal. 3. 'Twas little Barbara Lethwaite, a child of beauty rare :
I watch'd them with delight; they were a lovely pair : And now with empty can, the maiden turn'd away,
But ere ten yards were gone, her footsteps did she stay. 4. Towards the Lamb she look’d; and from that shady
place, I unobsery'd could see the workings of her face : If nature to her tongue could measur'd numbers bring,
Thus, though I, to her Lamb that little maid would sing: 5. “What wils thee, young one, what? why pull so at
thy cord! Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board! Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be:
Rest, litile young one, rest; what is't that aileth thee! 6. What is it thou would'st seek? What's wanting to thy
heart? Thy limbs are they not strong! and beautiful thou art : This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no
peers ; And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears. 7. If the sun is shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain,
This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain : For rain and mountain storms the like thou need'st not
The rain and storm are things which scarcely can come
here. 8. Rest, little young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day,
When my father found thee first in places far away: Many flocks were on the hill, but thou wert own'd by none.
And thy mother from thy side for ever more was gone. 9. He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home:
A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam ? A faithful nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee yean
Upon the mountain tops, no kinder could have been. 10. Thou know'st that 'twice a day, I've brought thee in
Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran : Ind twice in the day, when the ground is wet with dew,
I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new. il. It will not, will not rest! Poor creature! can it be, That 'tis thy mother's heart which is working so in
thee ! 'Things that I know not of perhaps to thee are dear, And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor
hear. 12. Alas! the mountain tops that look so green and fair ; I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come
there : The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play,
When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey 13. Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the sky;
He will not come to thee, our cottage is hard by, Night and day thou art safe as living thing can be : Be happy then and rest; what is't that aileth thee?"
WORDSWORTH. SECTION IX. The Farmer, the Spaniel, and the Cat. 1. As at his hoard a Farmer sat,
Replenish'd by his homely treat,