Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

The Hare and Tortoife, a Fable.

83

ANOTHER.

On a green hillock by the shady road
My dwelling ftands,-a fweet recluse abode !
And o'er my darken'd casement interwine
The fragrant brier, the woodbine, and the vine.
Before my door the box-edg'd border lies,
Where flowers of mint and thyme and taufy rife ;
Along my wall the yellow ftonecrop grows,
And the red houfeleek on my brown thatch blows.
Spred on the flope of yon steep western hill,
My fruitful orchard shelters all the vill;
There pear-trees tall their tops aspiring show,
And apple-trees their branches mix below.

SCOT.

THE HARE AND TORTOISE,

A FABLE.

A FORWARD hare, of fwiftnefs vain,
The genius of the neighb'ring plain,
Would oft deride the drudging crowd:
For geniuses are ever proud.

He'd

84

The Hare and Tortoife, a Fable.

He'd boaft, his flight 't were vain to follow,

+

For dog and horse he'd beat them hollow-
Nay if he put forth all his ftrength,
Outstrip his brethren half a length.
A tortoife heard his vain oration,
And vented thus his indignation:
"O pufs! it bodes thee dire disgrace
When I defy thee to the race.
Come, 't is a match: nay, no denial,
I lay my fhell upon the trial."

'Twas 'Done and done,' all fair, 'a bet,'
Judges prepar'd, and distance fet.

The fcamp'ring hare outstripp'd the wind;
The creeping tortoise lagg'd behind,
And scarce had pass'd a single pole
When pufs had almoft reach'd the goal.
"Friend tortoife," quoth the jeering hare,
"Your burthen's more than you can bear;
To help your speed it were as well
That I fhould eafe you of your fhell:
Jog on a little faster, pr'ythee:

I'll take a nap, and then be with thee."

The

The Orphan Boy.

The tortoife heard his taunting jeer,
But still refolv'd to perfevere;
On to the goal fecurely crept,
While pufs unknowing foundly flept.
The bets were won, the hare awake,
When thus the victor tortoise spake:
"Pufs, though I own thy quicker parts,
Things are not always done by starts.
You may deride my awkward pace;
But flow and steady wins the race."

85

LLOYD.

THE ORPHAN BOY,

ALAS! I am an orphan boy,

With nought on earth to cheer my heart;
No father's love, no mother's joy,
Nor kin nor kind to take my part.
My lodging is the cold, cold ground;
I eat the bread of charity;

And when the kifs of love goes round
There is no kifs, alas! for me.

Yet

85

The Orphan Boy.

Yet once I had a father dear,
A mother too I wont to prize,
With ready hand to wipe the tear,
If chanc'd a tranfient tear to rife.
But cause of tears was rarely found;
For all my heart was youthful glee:
And, when the kifs of love went round,
How fweet a kifs there was for me!

But ha! there came a war they fay.
What is a war I cannot tell;
But drums and fifes did fweetly play,
And loudly rang our village bell.
In truth, it was a pretty found

I thought, nor could I thence foresee
That, when the kifs of love went round,
There foon fhould be no kifs for me.

A fcarlet coat my father took,

And fword as bright as bright could be;
And feathers, that fo gayly look,

All in a shining cap had he.

4

Then

The Orphan Boy.

87

Then how my

little heart did bound!

Alas! I thought it fine to fee;

Nor dreamt that, when the kifs went round, There foon fhould be no kifs for me.

At length the bell again did ring;
There was a victory, they faid;
'Twas what my father faid he 'd bring;
But ha! it brought my father dead.
My mother fhriek'd: her heart was woe:
She clafp'd me to her trembling knee.
O God! that you may never know
How wild a kifs fhe gave to me!

But once again-but once again,
Thefe lips a mother's kiffes felt.
That once again-that once again-
The tale a heart of stone would melt-
'T was when, upon her death-bed laid,
O God! O God! that fight to fee!
"My child!-my child!" the feebly said,
And gave a parting kifs to me..

[blocks in formation]
« ПредишнаНапред »