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I live, yet I seem to myself to be dead,
Such a riddle is not to be found,

I am nourish'd without knowing how I am fed,
I have nothing, and yet I abound.

Oh, lovel who in darkness art pleased to abide,
Though dimly, yet surely I see

That these contrarieties only reside
In the soul that is chosen of thee.

Ah! send me not back to the race of mankind, Perversely by folly beguiled,

For where, in the crowds I have left, shall I find The spirit and heart of a child?

Here let me, though fix’d in a desert, be free;
A little one whom o despise,

Though lost to the world, if in union with thee,
Shall be holy, and happy, and wise,

TRANSIATIONS FROM WINCENT BOURNE,

The GLOW WORM.

BENEATH the hedge, or near the stream,
A worm is known to stray

That shows by night a lucid
Which disappears by day.

Disputes have been, and still prevail,
rom whence his rays proceed;
Some give that honour to his tail,
And others to his head.

But this is sure—the hand of night
That kindles up the skies,

Gives him a modicum of light
Proportion'd to his size.

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Perhaps indulgent Nature meant,
By such a lamp bestow'd,

To bid the traveller, as he went,
Be careful where he trod:

Nor crush a worm, whose useful light
Might serve, however small,

To show a stumbling stone by night,
And save him from a f

Whate'er she meant, this truth divine
Is legible and Fo
'Tis power almighty bids him shine,
Nor bids him shine in vain.
Ye proud and wealthy, let this theme
each humbler thoughts to you,
Since such a reptile has its gem,
And boasts its splendour too.

THE JACKDAW,

THERE is a bird who, by his coat
And by the hoarseness of his note,
Might be supposed a crow;
A great frequenter of the church,
Where, bishop-like, he finds a perch,
And dormitory too,

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Above the steeple shines a plate,
That turns and turns, to indicate
From what point blows the weather.
Look up—your brains begin to swim,
'Tis in the clouds—that pleases him,
He chooses it the rather.

Fond of the speculative height,
Thither he wings his airy flight,
And thence securely sees
The bustle and the rareeshow,
That occupy mankind below,
Secure and at his ease.

You think, no doubt, he sits and musee
On future broken bones and bruises,
If he should chance to fall.
No; not a single thought like that
Employs his philosophic pate,
Or troubles it at all.

He sees that this great roundabout,
The world, with all its motley rout,
Church, army, physic, law,
Its customs and its businesses,
Is no concern at all of his,
And says—what says he?—Caw.

Thrice happy bird! I too have seen
Much of the vanities of men;
And, sick of having seen 'em,
Would cheerfully these limbs resign
For such a pair of wings as thine
And such a head between 'em.

The CRICKET.

LITTLE inmate, full of mirth,
Chirping on my kitchen hearth,
Wheresoe'er be thine abode,
Always harbinger of good,
Pay me for thy warm retreat
With a song more soft and sweet;
In return thou shalt receive
Such a strain as I can give.

Thus thy praise shall be express'd,
Inoffensive, welcome guest!
While the rat is on the scout,
And the mouse with curious snout,
With what vermin else infest
Every dish, and spoil the best;
Frisking thus before the fire,
Thou hast all thine heart's desire.

Though in voice and shape they be
Form'd as if akin to thee,
Thou surpassest, happier far,
Happiest grasshoppers that are;
Theirs is but a summer's song,
Thine endures the winter long,
Unimpair'd, and shrill, and clear,
Melody throughout the year.

Neither night nor dawn of day
Puts a period to thy play;
Sing, then—and extend thy span
Far beyond the date of man.
Wretched man, whose years are spent
In repining discontent,
Lives not, aged though he

be Half a span, compared with

thee.

The PARROT.

In paintedF. superbly dress'd,
A native of the gorgeous east,
By many a billow toss'd;
Poll gains at length the British shore,
Part of the captain's precious store,
A present to his toast.

Belinda's maids are soon preferr'd
To teach him now and then a word,
As poll can master it;
But 'tis her own important charge,
To qualify him more at large,
And make him quite a wit.

Sweet Poll! his doting mistress cries,
Sweet Poll the mimic bird replies,
And calls aloud for sack.
She next instructs him in the kiss;
"Tis now a little one, like Miss,
And now a hearty smack.

At first he aims at what he hears;
And, listening close with both his ears,
Just catches at the sound;
But soon articulates aloud,
Much to the amusement of the crowd,
And stuns the neighbours round.

A.Querulous old woman's voice
His humorous talent next employs,
He scolds, and gives the lie.
And now he sings, and now is sick,
Here, Sally, Susan, come, come quick,
Poor Poll is like to dies

Belinda and her bird 'tis rare
To meet with such a well match'd pair,
The language and the tone,
Each character in o: part
Sustain'd with so much grace and art,

And both in unison.

When children first begin to spell,
And stammer out a syllable,
We think them tedious creatures;
But difficulties soon abate,
When birds are to be taught to prate,
And women are the teachers.

THE THRACHAN.

THRACIAN parents, at his birth,
Mourn their babe with many a tear,

But, with undissembled mirth,
flace him breathless on his bier.

Greece and Rome, with equal scorn,
“O the savages 1” exclaim,

“Whether they rejoice or mourn,
Well entitled to the name !”

But the cause of this concern
And this pleasure would they trace,

Even o might somewhat learn
From the savages of Thrace.

RECIPROCAL KINDNESS THE PRIMARY LAW OF NATURE,

ANDROCLEs, from his injured lord, in dread
Of instant death, to Lybia's desert fled,
Tired with his toilsome flight, and parch'd with heat,
He spied at length a cavern's cool retreat;
But scarce had given to rest his weary frame,
When, hugest of his kind, a lion came:
He roar'd approaching: but the savage din
To F. Inurtaurs oil. within,
And with expressive looks, his lifted paw
Presenting, and implored from whom he saw.
The fugitive, through terror at a stand,
Dared not awhile afford his trembling hand;
But bolder grown, at length inherent found
A pointed thorn, and drew it from the wound.
The cure was wrought; he wiped the sanious blood,
And firm and free from pain the lion stood.
Again he seeks the wilds, and day by day
Regales his inmate with the parted prey,
Nor he disdains the dole, though unprepared,
Spread on the ground, and with a lion shared.
But thus to live—still lost—sequester'd still—
seem'd his lord's revenge a heavier ill.

Home! native home! 0 might he but repair |
He must—he will, though death attends him there.

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