Better fate have PRINCE and SWALLOW See them cleaving to the sport! MUSIC has no heart to follow, Little MUSIC, she stops short. She hath neither wish nor heart, Her's is now another part: A loving Creature she, and brave! And doth her best her struggling Friend to save. From the brink her paws she stretches, Very hands as you would say ! And afflicting moans she fetches, As he breaks the ice away. Him alone she sees and hears, Makes efforts and complainings; nor gives o'er Until her Fellow sunk, and reappear'd no more. TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE SAME DOG. Lie here sequester'd:-be this little mound Beneath the covering of the common earth! Or want of love, that here no Stone we raise; Yet they to whom thy virtues made thee dear Shall find thee through all changes of the year: This Oak points out thy grave; the silent Tree I pray'd for thee, and that thy end were past; And left thee but a glimmering of the day; Thy ears were deaf; and feeble were thy knees, — I saw thee stagger in the summer breeze, Too weak to stand against its sportive breath, It came, and we were glad; yet tears were shed; Both Man and Woman wept when Thou wert dead; Not only for a thousand thoughts that were, Old household thoughts, in which thou hadst thy share; But for some precious boons vouchsafed to thee, Found scarcely any where in like degree! For love, that comes to all; the holy sense, And, therefore, shalt thou be an honoured name! SONNET. ADMONITION, (Intended more particularly for the Perusal of those who may have happened to be enamoured of some beautiful Place of Retreat, in the Country of the Lakes.) Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye! This blissful leaf, with worst impiety. Think what the home would be if it were thine, Even thine, though few thy wants!-Roof, window, door, The very flowers are sacred to the Poor, The roses to the porch which they entwine: Yea, all, that now enchants thee, from the day On which it should be touch'd, would melt, and melt away! |