Not yet the hawthorn bore her berries red, Tho' ears she gave me two, gave me no ear. And heedless whither, to that field I came, Sheep graz'd the field; some with soft bosom press'd The herb as soft, while nibbling stray'd the rest; * Two woods belonging to John Throckmorton, Esq. near Weston Underwood. And from within the wood that crash was heard, Tho' not a hound from whom it burst appear'd, The sheep recumbent, and the sheep that graz'd, Admiring, terrified, the novel strain, Then cours'd the field around, and cours'd it round again; But, recollecting, with a sudden thought, That flight in circles urg'd advanc'd them nought, Have speech for him, and understood with ease; He scans of every loco-motive kind; Birds of all feather, beasts of ev'ry name, That serve mankind, or shun them, wild or tame; He spells them true by intuition's light, Their periwigs of wool, and fears combin'd, Stamp'd on each countenance such marks of mind, That sage they seem'd, as lawyers o'er a doubt, Which puzzling long, at last they puzzle out; When thus a Mutton, statelier than the rest, A Ram, the Ewes and Wethers sad address'd. 'Friends! we have liv'd too long. I never heard 'Sounds such as these, so worthy to be fear'd. 'Could I believe that winds for ages pent 'In earth's dark womb have found at last a vent, And from their prison-house below arise, 'With all these hideous howlings to the skies, 'I could be much compos'd, nor should appear For such a cause to feel the slightest fear. 'Yourselves have seen, what time the thunders roll'd All night, me resting quiet in the fold. 'Or heard we that tremendous bray alone, 'I could expound the melancholy tone; 'Should deem it by our old companion made, The ass; for he, we know, has lately stray'd, 'And being lost, perhaps, and wandering wide, Might be suppos'd to clamour for a guide. 'But, ah! those dreadful yells what soul can hear, 'That owns a carcase, and not quake for fear? 'Dæmons produce them doubtless, brazen-claw'd And fang'd with brass the dæmons are abroad; 'I hold it, therefore, wisest and most fit, 'That, life to save, we leap into the pit.' Him answer'd then his loving mate and true, But more discreet than he, a Cambrian Ewe: 'How? leap into the pit our life to save? 'To save our life leap all into the grave? 'Nor can we find it less? Contemplate first The depth how awful! falling there, we burst: "Or, should the brambles, interpos'd, our fall 'In part abate, that happiness were small; For with a race like theirs no chance I see 'Of peace or ease to creatures clad as we. Mean time, noise kills not. Be it Dapple's bray, 'Or be it not, or be it whose it may, 'And rush those other sounds, that seem by tongues • Come fiend, come fury, giant, monster, blast By panting dog, tir'd man, and spatter'd horse, THE GOLDFINCHES, OR THE FAITHFUL FRIEND. 155 'MORAL. Beware of desperate steps. The darkest day, Live till to-morrow, will have pass'd away. FABLE LIII. THE GOLDFINCHES, OR, THE FAITHFUL FRIEND. By Cowper. THE green-house is my summer seat; Two Goldfinches, whose sprightly song, They sang, as blithe as Finches sing, Strangers to liberty, 'tis true, But nature works in every breast; |