Their fentiments fo well exprefs'd,
Influenc'd mightily the reft,

All pair'd, and each pair built a neft.

But though the birds were thus in haste,
The leaves came on not quite so fast,
And destiny, that sometimes bears

An aspect ftern on man's affairs,
Not altogether fmil'd on theirs.
The wind, of late breath'd gently forth,
Now shifted east and east by north.
Bare trees and fhrubs but ill, you know,
Could shelter them from rain or fnow;
Stepping into their nefts, they paddled,
Themselves were chill'd, their eggs were addled;
Soon ev'ry father bird and mother

Grew quarrelfome, and peck'd each other,
Parted without the least regret,

Except that they had ever met,
And learn'd, in future, to be wifer,
Than to neglect a good adviser.

INSTRUCTION.

Miffes! the tale that I relate

This leffon feems 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 pafs,
Thick overfpread with mofs and filky grafs,
Adjoining close to Kilwick's echoing wood,
Where oft the bitch-fox hides her hapless brood,
Refery'd to folace many a neighb'ring 'fquire,
That he may follow them through brake and briar,
Contufion hazarding of neck or fpine,
Which rural gentlemen call sport divine.
A narrow brook by rufhy banks conceal'd,
Runs in a bottom, and divides the field;
Oaks interfperfe it, that had once a head,
But now wear crests of oven-wood instead;
And where the land flops to its wat'ry bourn,
Wide yawns a gulf beside a ragged thorn;
Bricks line the fides, but fhiver'd long ago,
And horrid brambles intertwine below;
A hollow fcoop'd, I judge in ancient time,
For baking earth, or burning rock to lime.

Not yet the hawthorn bore her berries red, With which the fieldfare, wintry gueft, is fed; Nor autumn yet had brush'd from ev'ry spray, With her chill hand, the mellow leaves away; But corn was hous'd, and beans were in the stack, Now, therefore, iffued forth the fpotted pack, With tails high mounted, ears hung low, and throats With a whole gamut fill'd of heav'nly notes, For which, alas ! my deftiny fevere,

Though ears fhe gave me two, gave me no ear.
The fun, accomplishing his early march,
His lamp now planted on heav'n's topmaft arch,
When, exercife and air my only aim,
And heedlefs whither, to that field I came,
Ere yet with ruthlefs joy the happy hound
Told hill and dale that Reynard's track was found,
Or with the high-rais'd horn's melodious clang
All Kilwick * and all Dingle-derry * rang.

Sheep grazd the field; fome with foft bofom prefs 'a
The herb as foft, while nibbling ftray'd the reft;
Nor noife was heard but of the hafty brook,
Struggling, detain'd in many a petty nook.
All feem'd fo peaceful, that from them convey'd
To me, their peace by kind contagion fpread.

Two woods belonging to John Throckmorton, Elg

But when the huntsman, with diftended check,
'Gan make his inftrument of mufic fpeak,
And from within the wood that crash was heard,
Though not a hound from whom it burft appear'd,
The sheep recumbent, and the sheep that graz'd,
All huddling into phalanx, ftood and gaz'd,
Admiring, terrified, the novel strain,

Then cours'd the field around, and cours'dit round again;
But, recollecting with a fudden thought,

That flight in circles urg'd advanc'd them nought,
They gather'd clofe around the old pit's brink,
And thought again-but knew not what to think.
The man to folitude accustom'd long,
Perceives in ev'ry thing that lives a tongue;
Not animals alone, but fhrubs and trees,
Have fpeech for him, and understood with eafe;
After long drought, when rains abundant fall,
He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all;
Knows what the freshness of their hue implies,
How glad they catch the largenefs of the skies;
But with precision nicer still, the mind
He scans of ev'ry loco-motive kind;

Birds of all feather, beasts of ev'ry name,

That ferve mankind, or fhun them, wild or tame;
The looks and geftures 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.

This truth premis'd was needful as a text,
To win due credence to what follows next.
Awhile they mus'd; furveying ev'ry face,
Thou hadft fuppos'd them of fuperior race;
Their periwigs of wool, and fears combin'd,
Stamp'd on each countenance fuch marks of mind,
That fage they feem'd, as lawyers o'er a doubt,
Which, puzzling long, at laft they puzzle out;
Or academic tutors, teaching youths,

Sure ne'er to want them, mathematic truths;
When thus a mutton, ftatelier than the reft,
A ram, the ewes and wethers, fad, address'd.
Friends! we have liv'd too long. I never heard
Sounds fuch as thefe, fo 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 prifon-house below arife,
With all thefe hideous howlings to the skies,
I could be much compos'd, nor fhould appear
For fuch a caufe to feel the slightest fear.
Yourselves have feen, what time the thunders roll'd
All night, me refting quiet in the fold.
Or heard we that tremendous bray alone,
I could expound the melancholy tone;