The wind, of late breath'd gently forth, Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know, Could shelter them from rain or snow, Stepping into their nests, they paddled, Themselves were chill'd, their eggs were addled; Soon ev'ry father bird and mother Grew quarrelsome, and peck'd each other, Parted without the least regret, Except that they had ever met, And learn'd, in future, to be wiser, Than to neglect a good adviser. " INSTRUCTION. Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry. THE NEEDLESS ALARM. A TALE. THERE is a field through which I often pass, Thick overspread with moss and silky grass, Adjoining close to Kilwick's echoing wood, Where oft the bitch-fox hides her hapless brood, Reserv'd to solace many a neighb'ring 'squire, That he may follow them through brake and briar, Which rural gentlemen call sport divine. Bricks line the sides, but shiver'd long ago, A hollow scoop'd, I judge in ancient time, Not yet the hawthorn bore her berries red, Though ears she gave me two, gave me no ear. And heedless whither, to that field I came, Ere yet with ruthless joy the happy hound Told hill and dale that Reynard's track was found, Or with the high-rais'd horn's melodious clang Sheep graz'd the field; some with soft bosom press'd The herb as soft, while nibbling stray'd the rest; Struggling, detain'd in many a petty nook. But when the huntsman, with distended cheek, Then cours'd the field around, and cours'd it round again; • Two woods belonging to John Throckmorton, Esq. II. 2 B But, recollecting with a sudden thought, He scans of ev'ry loco-motive kind; Birds of all feather, beasts of ev'ry name, That serve mankind, or shun them, wild or tame; The looks and gestures of their griefs and fears Have, all, articulation in his ears; He spells them true by intuition's light, And needs no glossary to set him right. |