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Translation of the Foregoing.

LITTLE inmate, full of mirth,
Chirping on my kitchen hearth,
Wheresoe'er be thine abode,
Always harbinger of good,
Pay me for thy warm retreat
With a song more soft and sweet;
In return thou shalt receive
Such a strain as I can give.

Thus thy praise shall be express’d,
Inoffensive, welcome guest!
While the rat is on the scout,
And the mouse with curious snout,
With what vermin else infest
Every dish, and spoil the best;
Frisking thus before the fire,
Thou hast all thine heart's desire.

III. Though in voice and shape they be Form'd as if akin to thee, Thou surpassest, happier far, Happiest grasshoppers that are ; Theirs is but a summer's song, Thine endures the winter long, Unimpair'd, and shřill, and clear, Melody throughout the year.

Neither night, nor dawn of day,
Puts a period to thy play:
Sing then_and extend thy span
Far beyond the date of man.
Wretched man, whose years are spent
In repining discontent,
Lives not, aged though he be,
Half a span, compared with thee.




CRISTATUS, pictisque ad Thaida Psittacus alis,

Missus ab Eoo munus amante venit. Ancillis mandat primam formare loquelam,

Archididascaliæ dat sibi Thais opus.
Psittace, ait Thais, fingitque sonantia molle

Basia, quæ docilis molle refingit avis.
Jam captat, jam dimidiat tyrunculus; et jam

Integrat auditos articulatque sonos.
Psittace mi pulcher pulchelle, hera dicit alumno;

Psittace mi pulcher, reddit alumnus heræ. Jamque canit, ridet, deciesque ægrotat in hora,

Et vocat ancillas nomine quamque suo. Multaque scurratur mendax, et multa jocatur,

Et lepido populum detinet augurio. Nunc tremulum illudet fratrem, qui suspicit, et Pol!

Carnalis, quisquis te docet, inquit, homo est ; Argutæ nunc stridet anûs argutulus instar;

Respicit, et nebulo es, quisquis es, inquit anus. Quando fuit melior tyro, meliorve magistra!

Quando duo ingeniis tam coiêre pares! Ardua discenti nulla est, res nulla docenti

Ardua; cum doceat fæmina, discat avis.




IN painted plumes superbly dressid,
A native of the gorgeous east,

By many a billow toss'd,
Poll gains at length the British shore,
Part of the captain's precious store,
A present to his toast.

Belinda's maids are soon preferr’d,
To teach him now and then a word,

As Poll can master it;
But 'tis her own important charge,
To qualify him more at large,
And make him quite a wit.

Sweet Poll! his doting mistress cries,
Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies;

And calls aloud for sack.
She next instructs him in the kiss;
'Tis now a little one, like Miss,
And now a hearty smack.

At first he aims at what he hears;
And, listening close with both his ears,

Just catches at the sound; But soon articulates aloud, Much to the amusement of the crowd,

And stuns the neighbours round,

A querulous old woman's voice
His humourous talent next employs ;

He scolds, and gives the lie.
And now he sings, and now is sick,
Here Sally, Susan, come, come quick,
Poor Poll is like to die !

VI. Belinda and her bird ! 'tis rare, To meet with such a well-match'd pair,

The language and the tone,
Each character in every part
Sustain'd with so much grace and art,
And both in unison.

Wlien children first begin to spell,
And stammer out a syllable,

We think them tedious creatures;
But difficulties soon abate,
When birds are to be taught to prate,

And women are the teachers.


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