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6.

Thrice happy bird! I too have seen

Much of the vanities of men,

And fick of having feen e'm, Would chearfully thefe limbs refign For fuch a pair of wings as thine,

And fuch a head between 'em.

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LITTLE inmate, full of mirth,

Chirping on my kitchen hearth;

Wherefoe'er be thine abode,

Always harbinger of good,

Pay me for thy warm retreat,
With a fong more foft and sweet,

In return thou shalt receive

Such a strain as I can give.

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2.

Thus thy praise fhall be expreft,

Inoffenfive, welcome guest!

While the rat is on the scout,

And the moufe with curious fnout,

With what vermin else infest

Every dish and fpoil the beft;

Frifking thus before the fire,

Thou haft all thine heart's defire.

3.

Though in voice and shape they be
Form'd as if akin to thee,

Thou furpaffeft, happier far,

Happieft grafshoppers that are,

Theirs is but a fummer's fong,

Thine endures the winter long,
Unimpair'd and fhrill and clear,
Melody throughout the year.

4. Neither

4.

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, whofe years are spent

In repining discontent;

Lives not, aged tho' he be,
Half a fpan compar'd with thee.

4. THE PARROT.

1.

IN painted plumes fuperbly drest,

A native of the gorgeous eaft,

By many a billow toft;

Poll gains at length the British shore,

Part of the captain's precious ftore,

A prefent to his toast.

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2.

Belinda's maids are foon preferr'd

To teach him now and then a word,

As Poll can mafter it;

But 'tis her own important charge
To qualify him more at large,

And make him quite a wit.

3.

Sweet Poll! his doating mistress cries,

Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies,

And calls aloud for fack,“

She next inftructs him in the kiss,

'Tis now a little one like Miss,

And now a hearty fmack,

4.

At first he aims at what he hears

And liftening close with both his ears,

Juft catches at the found;

But foon articulates aloud,

Much to th' amufement of the crowd

And ftuns the neighbours round.

21.

5.

A querulous old woman's voice

His humorous talent next employs,
He fcolds and gives the lie;

And now he fings, and now is fick,

Here Sally, Sufan, come, come quick,

Poor Poll is like to die.

6.

Belinda and her bird! 'tis rare

To meet with fuch a well-match'd pair,

The language and the tone,

Each character in every part

Suftain'd with fo much

And both in unifon.

7.

grace

and art,

When children first begin to fpell

And ftammer out a fyllable,

We think them tedious creatures;

But difficulties foon abate,

When birds are to be taught to prate,

And women are the teachers.

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