SELECT POEMS. THE BLACKBIRDS. AN ELEGY. THE Sun had chas'd the mountain snow, His beams had pierc'd the stubborn soil, The melting streams began to flow, And ploughmen urg'd their annual toil. 'Twas then, amidst the vocal throng, "O fairest of the feather'd train! "For see, the wintry storms are flown, "The raven plumes his jetty wing, "But does the raven's sable wing "O let me then thy steps attend! I'll point new treasures to thy sight: "I'll guide thee to the clearest rill, "I'll lead thee to the thickest brake, "When, prompted by a mother's care, Thy warmth shall form the' imprison'd young; The pleasing task. I'll gladly share, Or cheer thy labours with a song. "To bring thee food I'll range the fields, "And when my lovely mate would stray, I'll wait at home the live-long day, "Then prove with me the sweets of love, He ceas'd his song-the plumy dame He led her to the nuptial bow'r, And perch'd with triumph by her side; What gilded roof could boast that hour A fonder mate, or happier bride? Next morn he wak'd her with a song, "Behold," he said, "the new-born day, The lark his matin-peal has rung, Arise, my love, and come away." Together through the fields they stray'd, And to the murm'ring riv'let's side, Renew'd their vows, and hopp'd, and play'd With artless joy, and decent pride. When, O! with grief my Muse relates Sent by an order from the Fates, Alarm'd, the lover cried, "My dear, At him the gunner took his aim, Divided pair! forgive the wrong, THE GOLDFINCHES. AN ELEGY. TO WILLIAM SHENSTONE, ESQ. Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros. To you, whose groves protect the feather'd choirs, 'Twas gentle spring, when all the plumy race, All in a garden, on a currant bush, With wondrous art they built their airy seat; In the next orchard liv'd a friendly thrush, Nor distant far a woodlark's soft retreat. 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 joys, and crown'd their nest With infant pledges of their faithful loves. 7 And now what transport glow'd in either's eye? What equal fondness dealt the' allotted food? What joy each other's likeness to descry, And future sonnets in the chirping brood! But ah! what earthly happiness can last? 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. On mischief bent, he mark'd, with rav'nous eyes, Where wrapp'd in down the callow songsters lay, Then rushing, rudely seiz'd the glitt'ring prize, And bore it in his impious hands away! 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? "O grief of griefs!" with shrieking voice she cried, "What sight is this that I have liv'd to see! O! that I had in youth's fair season died, From love's false joys and bitter sorrows free. |