Long time a breeding-place they sought, A ship? could such a restless thing Or was the merchant charged to bring Hush!-silent hearers profit most,- Proved kinder to them than the coast, But such a tree! 'twas shaven deal, Within that cavity aloft Their roofless home they fix'd, Four ivory eggs soon pave its floor, The mother-bird is gone to sea, No;-Soon as from ashore he saw The winged mansion move, Then perching at his consort's side, The billows and the blast defied, And cheer'd her with a song. The seaman with sincere delight For seamen much believe in signs, Hail, honour'd land! a desert where And ye who, rather than resign Were not afraid to plough the brine For whose lean country much disdain But wantonness and woe; Be it your fortune, year by year, The same resource to prove, 1 This tale is founded on an article of intelligence which the author found in the Buckinghamshire Herald, for Saturday, June 1, 1793, in the following words. Glasgow, May 23. The nest "In a block, or pulley, near the head of the mast of a gabert, now lying at the Broomielaw, there is a chaffinch's nest and four eggs. was built while the vessel lay at Greenock, and was followed hither by both birds. Though the block is occasionally lowered for the inspection of the curious, the birds have not forsaken the nest. The cock however visits the nest but seldom; while the hen never leaves it, but when she descends to the hull for food." TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. JUNE 29, 1793. DEAR architect of fine CHATEAUX in air, But I am bankrupt now; and doom'd henceforth ON A SPANIEL, CALLED BEAU, KILLING A YOUNG BIRD. JULY 15, 1793. A SPANIEL, Beau, that fares like you, But you have kill'd a tiny bird, Nor did you kill that you might eat, For him, though chased with furious heat, Nor was he of the thievish sort, BEAU'S REPLY. SIR, when I flew to seize the bird breast You cried-forbear!-but in my Yet much as nature I respect, I ventured once to break Had flutter'd all his strength away, Well knowing him a sacred thing, I only kiss'd his ruffled wing, Let my obedience then excuse Nor some reproof yourself refuse If killing birds be such a crime, What think you, sir, of killing time ANSWER ΤΟ STANZAS ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH, BY MISS CATHARINE FANSHAWE, IN RETURNING A POEM OF MR. COWPER'S, LENT TO HER ON CONDITION SHE SHOULD NEITHER SHOW IT, NOR TAKE A COPY. 1793. To be remember'd thus is fame, And did the few like her the same, So Homer, in the memory stored TO THE SPANISH ADMIRAL COUNT GRAVINA, ON HIS TRANSLATING THE author's sonG ON A ROSE INTO ITALIAN VERSE. 1793. My rose, Gravina, blooms anew; ON FLAXMAN'S PENELOPE. SEPT. 1793. THE suitors sinn'd, but with a fair excuse, |