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cage, and, with a sigh, imasimet .1A Takes one fond look, and lets him fly.

Now Mag, once more with freedom bless'd,
Looks round to find a place of rest; seu
To Temple Gardens wings his way, a
There perches on a neighb'ring spray.. ?

The Gard'ner now with busy caresincetat !!!
A curious seed for grass prepares,'

ha Yet spite of all his toil and pain,

A The hungry birds devour the grain. bili

A curious net he does prepare, dove si And lightly spreads the wily snare; The feather'd plunderers come in view, 91 And Mag, soon joins the thievish crew. The watchful Gard'ner now stands by, it With nimble hand and wary eye; want 41 The birds begin their stolen repast, taniese The flying net secures them fast, sest ax

The vengeful clown, now fill'd with ire, med Does to a neighb'ring shed retire, onda bu And, having first secur'd the doorsaaks ik va And windows, next the net explores. ieri

Now, in revenge for plunder'd seed, vile Each felon he resolves shall bleed, Then twists their little necks around, ya And casts them breathless on the ground. do .

Mag, who with man was us’d to herd, vol Knew something more than common bird; T He, therefore, watch'd with anxious care, in a And slipp'd himself from out the snare,


Then, perch'd on nail remote from ground i Observes how deaths are dealt around. Oh! how he nicks us, Maggy cries: Th' astonish'd Gard'ner lifts his eyes, With fault'ring voice and panting breath Exclaims, 'Who's there?'-All's still as death. His murd'rous work he does resume, And casts his eye around the room With caution, and at length does spy The Magpie perch'd on nail so high! The wond'ring clown, from what he heard, Believes him something more than bird, With fear impress’d does now retreat Towards the door with trembling feet; Then says- Thy name I do implore :' The ready bird replies—Tom Moore. • Dear me!' the fright'n'd clown replies, With hair erect and staring eyes; . Half opening then the hovel door, He asks the bird one question more:

What brought you here?'-With quick reply The Mag rejoins--Bad Company.

Out jumps the Gard'ner in a fright,
And runs away with all his might;
And as he runs, impress'd with dread,
Exclaims, The Devil's in the shed!'

The wond'rous tale a Bencher hears,
And soothes the man, and quells his fears,
Gets Mag secur'd in wicker cage
Once more to spend his little rage:

In Temple Hall now hung on high,
Mag oft exclaims-Bad Company!

To young and old the lesson be,
Avoid as death-BAD COMPANY.



In an apartment where expence
Appear'd in full magnificence,
A Looking-glass, of neatest taste,
Within the middle pannel plac'd,
Gather'd from Sol's meridian blaze
Th' assemblage of his scatter'd rays,
And shot in borrow'd splendour bright)

Across the room a flood of light. · High on a stand of sattin wood

An Orange-tree obliquely stood,
Whom, thus, of fancied pow'r possess'd,
The self-conceited Glass address'd :

By my kind influence behold
• How fair thy tender buds unfold,
• Which, but for my all-fostring ray,
· Their beauties never would display.
• Should not such gay expanded bloom,
. Such pleasing verdure, high perfume,

· Thy mind with grateful rapture raise,
• To render some return of praise;
• Such as may speak both love and awe,
• Lest I my influence withdraw ?'

Nought can thy judgment more misguide • Than pride,' the Orange-tree replied ; * But for that passion, thou would'st know * I nothing to thy influence owe; * All the perfections which you name, * From yonder glorious orb I claim, • The same whose partial beams I see • Shine with such radiance on thee, . And but for whose imparting light, • Thou had'st remain'd as dark as night. . Then scorn not the advice I give,• With gratitude those beams receive; • But think not any merit thine, · Who only by reflection shine.'

If to thy happy lot ’tis given
To be the instrument of Heaven,
Reflect that thou can'st nought dispense
But that which thou receiv'st from thence.

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Let me, my Friend, a Fable quote,
And thence my friendly moral note.

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In Grecian Æsop's goodly page,
A moral lesson to each age,
Will answer aptly to my end,
If you, with ready ear, attend.

A roguish Shepherd's Boy, we're told,
Would oft, while tending on his fold,
Alarm the neighb'ring hinds, and cry
As if the hostile Wolf were nigh.
Aloud he'd call, as sore afraid, . .
And beg the peasants' timely aid ;
But, as they eager towards him hie,
He mocks their weak credulity.
Thus scoff'd, and treated with disdain,
They turn themselves to work again;
And, having set them on their ward,
He calls,—but meets with no regard.

One day the Wolf indeed appears,
The Boy, almost o'erwhelm'd with fears,
Calls loud for help, but, to his cost,
No aid arrives,-a lamb is lost.


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