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Should deem it by our old companion made,
Him answer'd then his loving mate and true, But more discreet than he, a Cambrian ewe.
How ? leap into the pit our life to fave? To save our life leap all into the grave ? For can we find it less ? Contemplate first The depth how awful! falling there, we burst; Or should the brambles, interpos'd, our fall In part abate, that happiness were small; For with a race like theirs no chance I see Of peace or ease to creatures clad as we. Meantime, noise kills not. Be it Dapple's bray, Or be it not, or be it whose it may, And rush those other sounds, that seem by tongues Of dæmons utter'd, from whatever lungs, Sounds are but sounds, and till the cause appear, We have at least commodious standing here.
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Come, fiend, come, fury, giant, monster, blast
While thus the spake, I fainter heard the peals,
Beware of desp’rate steps. The darkest day (Live till to-morrow) will have pass’d away.
THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY.
The noon was shady, and soft airs
Swept Ouse's silent tide,
I wander'd on his side.
My spaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree, (Two nymphs *, adorn'd with ev'ry grace,
That spaniel found for me)
Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds,
Now starting into fight
With scarce a slower flight.
It was the time when Ouse display'd
His lilies newly blown;
* Sir Robert Gunning's daughters.
With cane extended far I fought
To steer it close to land; But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escap'd my eager hand,
Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains
With fixt consid'rate face,
To comprehend the case.
But with a chirrup clear and strong,
Dispersing all his dream,
The windings of the stream.
My ramble finishd, I return'd.
Beau trotting far before
And plunging left the shore.
I saw him with that lily cropp'd
Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon be dropp'd
The treasure at my feet.