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The open drawer was left, I see,

Merely to prove a nest for me.

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For soon as I was well composed,

Then came the maid, and it was closed.

How smooth these 'kerchiefs, and how sweet!

Oh, what a delicate retreat!

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I will resign myself to rest

Till Sol, declining in the west,

Shall call to supper, when, no doubt,

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That night, by chance, the poet watching,

Heard an inexplicable scratching;

His noble heart went pit-a-pat,

And to himself he said "What's that?"

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He drew the curtain at his side,

And forth he peeped, but nothing spied;

Yet, by his ear directed, guessed
Something imprisoned in the chest,

And, doubtful what, with prudent care
Resolved it should continue there.
At length, a voice which well he knew,
A long and melancholy mew,

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Saluting his poetic ears,

Consoled him, and dispelled his fears;
He left his bed, he trod the floor,
He 'gan in haste the drawers explore,
The lowest first, and without stop
The rest in order to the top;

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For 'tis a truth well known to most,

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That whatsoever thing is lost,

We seek it, ere it come to light,

In every cranny but the right.

Forth skipped the cat, not now replete
As erst with airy self-conceit,

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Nor in her own fond apprehension

A theme for all the world's attention,
But modest, sober, cured of all
Her notions hyperbolical,
And wishing for a place of rest
Anything rather than a chest.
Then stepped the poet into bed,
With this reflection in his head :

MORAL.

Beware of too sublime a sense

Of your own worth and consequence.
The man who dreams himself so great,
And his importance of such weight,

That all around in all that's done

Must move and act for him alone,

Will learn in school of tribulation
The folly of his expectation.

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IIO

115

THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY.

NO FABLE.

THE noon was shady, and soft airs
Swept Ouse's silent tide,

When, 'scaped from literary cares,

I wandered on his side.

My spaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree

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(Two nymphs 1 adorned with every grace That spaniel found for me),

Now wantoned, lost in flags and reeds,

Now starting into sight,

Pursued the swallow o'er the meads

With scarce a slower flight.

It was the time when Ouse displayed

His lilies newly blown ;

Their beauties I intent surveyed

And one I wished my own.

With cane extended far, I sought

To steer it close to land;

But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escaped my eager hand.

Beau marked my unsuccessful pains

With fixed considerate face,

And puzzling set his puppy brains

To comprehend the case.

1 Sir Robert Gunning's daughters.

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ΙΟ

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But with a cherup clear and strong

Dispersing all his dream,

I thence withdrew, and followed long
The windings of the stream.

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Charmed with the sight, "The world," I cried,

"Shall hear of this thy deed:

My dog shall mortify the pride
Of man's superior breed :

But chief myself I will enjoin,

Awake at duty's call,

To show a love as prompt as thine

To Him who gives me all."

5. TRANSLATIONS.

THE SNAIL.

To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wall,

The Snail sticks close, nor fears to fall,

As if he grew there, house and all

Together.

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Within that house secure he hides,
When danger imminent betides
Of storm, or other harm besides

Of weather.

Give but his horns the slightest touch,
His self-collecting power is such,
He shrinks into his house with much
Displeasure.

Where'er he dwells, he dwells alone,
Except himself has chattels none,
Well satisfied to be his own

Whole treasure.

Thus, hermit-like, his life he leads,
Nor partner of his banquet needs,

And if he meets one, only feeds

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ΙΟ

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The faster.

Who seeks him must be worse than blind

(He and his house are so combined)

If, finding it, he fails to find

Its master.

THE JACKDAW.

THERE is a bird who by his coat,
And by the hoarseness of his note,
Might be supposed a crow;

A great frequenter of the church,
Where bishop-like he finds a perch,

And dormitory too.

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