« PreviousContinue »
In all her splendour, pomp and pride,
The painted Fly from place to place : · But, conscious of some danger near,
The Butterfly her course would steer
The Lad, still eager to pursue
At length, when sweat bedew'd his face,
Enrag'd condemns his cruel fate,
Thus foolish mortals waste their days,
THE TWO DOVES. Two Turtles, once, of gentlest kind, In softest bands by love were join'd; Till tir'd of home Columbo grew, And pensive sigh'd for something new ; For distant realms prepar'd to part,ra When spoke the partner of his heart; • Why should my dear Columbo rove, * And leave me widow'd in the grove• What ill can worse than absence prove !
O let my love attend the Spring, * And wait the zephyrs' aiding wing. · Hawks, nets and ills of ev'ry kind • Henceforth shall haunt my boding mind;
* And what does Heav'n at home deny
These words in doubt Columbo hold
No more let tears those eyes distain,
This said, Farewell dissolves his heart, And wet with mutual tears they part.
As Turturella pensive sate, In fancy wand'ring with her mate, Far as her utmost ken she sees A bird approach by slow degrees; Nor form'd for flight he seem'd, nor song, But stopp'd by turns, and limp'd along: si Her pains who feels can tell alone, The bird for chang'd Columbo known; Her mate, with pearly tears so great, Down from her nest she flew to meet.
Awhile with silent grief oppress'd,
Scarce from this peaceful grove I past,
I felt the rig'rous season's power. « The cloud dissolv’d, benumb’d with cold, . Again my dripping wings unfold ;. • In neighb'ring fields some com I view, * And, hov'ring near, a turtle too; . By flatt'ring hopes deluded there, “I struggled in the fowler's snare: • The turtle tutor'd to betray, • Beneath the bait, a noose there lay. • Unwonted strength despair supplied, • I broke the snare my feet that tied; « With less than half my tail I fled, • And trail'd behind a broken thread,
A remnant of the snare, when, lo! * A vulture sees me, dreadful foe! * Just as he stoop'd to snatch the prey, ' . • From heav'n an eagle wing'd his way;.
• I, while the sons of rapine fight,
(The cruel race in sport destroy)
Laid bare my pinion to the bone; • Yet reach I living this abode,
What signal mercies Heav'n bestow'd ! • Left in this grove to sigh alone What fate has Turturella known?"
More signal yet, by far,' said she, • The mercies Heav'n bestow'd on me. . * Alas! what woes, Columbo cried,
In this short absence hast thou tried ? "What near escapes to equal mine? • Amazing marks of love divine !
The woes averted from my head • Are those which thou hast felt,' she said ; • No near escapes 'twas mine to prove, • What more amazing work of love! • In ease and safety more I gain • Than life to thee, preserv'd with pain, See, then, the mercies that I meant, Which Heaven to give me, gave Content ! • Learn hence the gifts vouchsafed to prize, • And, ere misfortunes teach,- be wise.