2. The boy grows prouder as he looks;
The girl is in a rage, nor brooks
Her boasting brother's jest and sneers,
Affronted at each word she hears.
Then to her father down she flies,
And urges all she can devise
Against the boy, who could presume
To meddle in a lady's room.
3. At which, embracing each in turn
With most affectionate concern
"My dears," said he, "you must not pass
A day without this useful glass:
You, lest you spoil a pretty face,
By doing things to your disgrace-
You, by good conduct to correct
Your form, and beautify defect."
The Lamb and the Pig; or, nature and educațion. 1. CONSULT the moralist, you'll find
That education forms the mind.
But education, ne'er supplied,
What ruling nature has denied.
If you'll the following page pursue,
My tale shall prove this doctrine true.
2. Since to the muse all brutes belong,
The lamb shall usher in my song;
Whose snowy fleece adorn'd her skin,
Emblem of native white within.
Meekness and love possess'd her soul,
And innocence had crown'd the whole.
3. It chanc'd upon a luckless day,
The little wanton, full of play,
Rejoic'd a thimy bank to gain;
But short the triumphs of her reign!
The treacherous slopes her fate fortell,
And soon the pretty trifler fell.
4. Beneath, a dirty ditch impress'd
Its mire upon her spotless vest.
What greater ill could lamb betide,
The butcher's barb'rous knife beside!
5. The shepherd, wounded with her cries,
Straight to the bleeding sufferer flies,
The lamkin in his arms he took,
And bore her to a neighb'ring brook,
The silver stream her wool refin'd
Her fleece in virgin whiteness shin'd.
6. Cleans'd from polution's every stain,
She join'd her fellows on the plain;
And saw afar the stinking shore,
But ne'er approach'd those dangers more,
The shepherd bless'd the kind event,
And view'd his flock with sweet content.
7. To market next he shap'd his way,
And brought provisions for the day:
But made, for winter's rich supply,
A purchase from a farmer's sty.
The children round their parent crowd;
And testify their mirth aloud.
8. They saw the stranger with surprise,
And all admir'd his little eyes,
Familiar grown he shar'd their joys;
Shar'd too the porridge with the boys,
The females o'er his dress preside;
They wash his face and scour his hide.
But daily more a swine he grew,
For all these housewives e'er could do. COTTON.
The Bee and the Ant; or, the advantages of application and diligence in early years.
1. On a bright dewy summer's morn
A Bee rang'd o'er the verdant lawn;
Studious to husband ev'ry hour,
And make the most of ev'ry flow'r.
2. Nimble from stalk to stalk she flies,
And loades with yellow wax her thighs;
With which the artist builds her comb,
And keeps all tight and warm at home:
Or from the cowslip's golden bells
Sucks honey to enrich her cells;
Or ev'ry tempting rose pursues,
Or sips the lily's fragrant dews;
Yet never robs the shining bloom,
Or of its beauty, or perfume.
Thus she discharg'd in ev'ry way,
The various duties of the day.
3. It chanc'd a frugal Ant was near,
Whose brow was furrow'd o'er by care:
A great economist was she,
Nor less laborious than the Bee:
By pensive parent often taught
What ills arise from want of thought;
That poverty on sloth depends,
On poverty the loss of friends.
4. Hence every day the ant is found
With anxious steps to tread the ground;
With curious search to trace the gain
And drag the heavy load with pain.
5. The Active Bee with pleasure saw
The Ant fulfill her parent's law
Ah! sister-labourer, says she,
How very fortunate are we!
Who, taught in infancy to know
The comforts which from labour flow,
Are independent of the great,
Nor know the wants of pride and state.
6. Why is our food so very sweet?
Because we earn before we eat.
Why are our wants so very few?
Because we nature's calls pursue.
Whence our complacency of mind?
Because we act our parts assign'd.
7. Have we incessant tasks to do?
Is not all nature busy too?
Does not the sun with constant pace
Persist to run his annual race?
Do not the stars which shine so bright,
Renew their courses every night?
Does not the ox obedient bow
His patient neck, and draw the plough?
Or when did a're the gen'rous steed
Withhold his labour or his speed.
1. REAS'NING at ev'ry step he treads,
Man yet mistakes his way,
While meaner things, who instinct leads,
Are rarely known to stray.
2. One silent eve I wander'd late,
And heard the voice of love;
The turtle thus address'd her inate,
And sooth'd the list'ning dove:
3. "Our mutual bond of faith and truth,
No time shall disengage;
Those blessings of our early youth,
Shall cheer our latest age.
4. While innocence without disguise,
And constancy sincere,
Shall fill the circles of those eyes,
And mine can read them there;
5. Those ills that wait on all below
Shall ne'er be felt by me;
Or, gently felt, and only so,
As being shar'd with thee.
6. When lightnings flash among the trees, Or kites are hov'ring near,
I fear lest thee alone they seize,
And know no other fear.
7. 'Tis then I feel myself a wife,
And press thy wedded side,
Resolv'd a union form'd for life
Death never shall divide.
8. But, oh! if, fickle and unchaste,
(Forgive a transient thought,)
Thou couldst become unkind at last,
And scorn thy present lot.
9. No need of lightnings from on high,
Or kites with cruel beak;
Denied th' endearments of thine eye,
This widow'd heart would break."
10. Thus sang the sweet sequester'd bird,
Soft as the passing wind;
And I recorded what I heard,-
A lesson for mankind.
1. ALL in a garden, on a currant bush
Two Goldfinches had built their airy seat;
In the next orchard liv'd a friendly thrush,
Nor distant far, a woodlark's soft retreat.
2. Here, bless'd with ease, and in each other bless'd With early songs they wak'd the neighb'ring groves; Till time matur'd their joy, and crown'd their nest With infant pledges of their faithful loves.
3. And now, what transport glow'd in either's eye! What equal fondness dealt th' allotted food! What joy each other's likeness to decry'
And future sonnets in the chirping brood!
4. But ah! what earthly happiness can last?
How does the fairest purpose often fail!
A truant school-boy's wantonness could blast
Their flattering hopes, and leave them both to wail.
5. The most ungentle of his tribe was he;
No gen'rous precept ever touch'd his heart: With concord false, and hideous prosody,
He scrawl'd his task, and blunder'd o'er his part.
6. On mischief bent, he mark'd with rav'nous eyes,
Where, wrapt in down, the callow songsters lay;
Then rushing, rudely siez'd the glitt'ring prize,
And bore it in his impious hands away!
7. But how shall I describe, in numbers rude,
The pangs for poor Chrysomitris decreed,
When, from her secret stand, aghast, she view'd
The cruel spoiler perpetrate the deed?
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