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The Lion and the Fawnsa
At first within the yard confin'd,
To feel the praise of patting hands;
THE LION AND THE FAWNS.
When the grim lion ranging o'er the lawns
The Deer and Savage Beasts.
The frighted hind beholds, and dares not stay, But swift thro' rustling thickets bursts her way; All drown'd in sweat, the panting mother flies, And the big tears rolt trickling from her eyes. ·
THE DEER AND SAVAGE BEASTS.
When the keen huntsman with a flying spear
THE ASS. The tardy ass, with heavy strength endued, In a wide field by troops of boys pursued, Tho'round his Gides a wooden tempest rain, Crops the wide harvest, and lays waste the plain. Thick on his side the hollow blows resound: The patient animal maintains his ground, Scarce from the field with all their efforts chas'd, And stirs but lowly when he stirs at last.
HARVEST. The rufset field rose high with waving graio ; With bended sickles stand the reaper train ; Here, stretch'd in ranks the levell’d swarths are
found, Sheaves heap'd on fheaves here thicken up the
ground. With sweeping stroke the mowers ftrow the lands;
The gath'rers follow, and collect in bands; And last the children, in whose arms are borne (Toe short to gripe them) the brown Iheaves of corn.
The Piedmontese and his Marmot.
THE PIEDMONTESE AND HIS MARMOT.
FROM my dear native moorlands, for many a day
was past; . But the warbling of April awoke them again: . Po crop the young plants, and to frisk on the plain.
Moonlight. Then I caught this poor fellow, and taught him
to dance, And we liv'd by his tricks as we rambled thro
France. But he droops and grows drowsy as onward we
roam, And he and his master both pine for their home. Let your charity then hasten back to his cot The poor Piedmontese with his harmless marmot.
MOONLIGHT. When the fair moon, refulgent lamp of night, Ö’er heav'n's clear azure spreads her sacred light; When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And itars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole, O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with Glver ev'ry mountain's head. Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies : The conscious swains, rejoicing in the fight, Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.