(57) THE MOUSE'S PETITION TO THE HOUSE KEEPER, FROM THE TRAP.
O mistress Betty hear the prayer
Of one for freedom sighing
Nor shut thy heart, so debonair,
Against the prisoner crying.
If thou for liberty hast glow'd
And spurn'd a tyrant's chain
Forbear forbear the world's high road
With guiltless blood to stain.
O do not taint with murderous step
Thy hospitable hearth,
But loose from out this horrid trap
A prize of little worth.
O let me go into my hole
Forbear to crush or smother
The last of all our family,
As thou hast kill'd my brother.
The maid relented and let go
The little mouse to play
Who with his pranks has charm'd her so
Since he had got away,
That every morn at breakfast time
She gives him bread to eat,
And is right glad, when he comes out,
The little beast to greet.
So when unto some prisoner
Our mercy we extend
He, grateful for the kind demur
Becomes our warmest friend. (*)
(*) An. Fr. Soc. This seems to have also some particular allusion.
O what art thou on rapid pinions flying?
« The Universe, »th'Ephemera replied,
« More fleet than Paestum's scented Zephyrs sighing, Or Peneus floods through Tempe's vale that glide! And who art thou its transient course pursuing! «Lifes Fertile Source,» the whitewing'd Dove rejoind; The sportive insect you are fondly viewing
Inspir'd by me becomes Eternal Mind.
Then what are all those myriad globules turning
Round various axes, in the vaulted skies,
Countless at Lybian sands their lamps are burning,
Fed from some fount beyond man's searching eyes.
«All that is rife with sense, » resumed the bird,
Are salient points in Cybele's great womb,
Begot by Cœlus, but the Eternal Word
« Bring forth will rule their birthday and her tomb.
(59) THE COCK AFLOAT IN THE BOWL.
At Rotterdam in olden time
The dykes once broke, 'tis said,
The floods burst in, the waters swell'd
And dreadful ravage made.
The poultry in a farmyard fence
From a huge bowl were fed,
Which stood half full of barley whence
The fowls their dinner made.
The fields were drench'd the cattle drown'd
As in the sea did roll,
When the adroit and cunning cock
Jump'd right into the bowl.
Full well he knew his boat would float
Where e'er the flood might go,
And that he had his food aboard
And drink in plenty too.
In rush'd the wild impetous wave,
The chickens were all drown'd,
But Chanticleer his life did save,
Since he a ship had found.
But when the flood retir'd again
And he was safe ashore,
He could not find one chick or hen
That he had known before:
For he was borne to Overschie
Upon the angry surge,
The rest lay dead at Rotterdam,
And you may sing their dirge.
So like a mariner escap'd
From some great storm at sea,
Who gets another Poll and brats
When his own drownded be.
Our gallant Cock found other hens
And added to the stock
Of farmer Fudge who to his joy
Now found another cock.
IMPROMTU ON SEEING A YOUNG LADY TAKE THE RELIGIOUS HABIT.
Say Muse to what intent yon sable throng
Of Virgins darkly veiled pass along,
Where tapers dim arrang'd in saintly row
Their scanty light across the cloister throw,
And hallow'd strains in softned accents blend,
To beg that God forestalling grace will send,
To bless the maid who kneels in fervent prayer,
And for the cloister quits a world of care.
Say why does she, who whylome tun'd the lyre
To artless notes of love and warm desire,
With skillful hand could touch the plaintive lute,
Or sing responsive to the she shepherd's flute,
Now string the harp with holy chords, to move
A heart that sighs for brighter scenes above.
What wish denied, what love too rudely cross'd,
What prospect blasted, or what fortune lost,
Could prompt an heiress of such high renown
Upon the world's inviting charms to frown?
To spurn what pleasures youth and beauty yield—
The chase, the dance, the banquet and the field.
With Juno's eyes and Dian's figure bless'd,
By woman envied and by man caress'd,
Whose voice was music, and whose tread was grace,
While passion glow'd in her enchanting face?
Does she desire to raise her saintly worth,
By bringing down celestial fire on Earth,
Or vainly hopes her sins will be forgiven,
By bearing lustre to the stars of Heaven?
Say for what joy, for what Seraphic blis,
She gives the world her last and ligering kiss,
Like one who bears the nectar bowl away
With hopes reserved for some more festive day.
Thy censure stay, Melpomene replie'd,
On her who to the world to day hath died:
No deep remore e'er tore her virgin heart
Too wisely steel'd against love's poison'd dart:
She knew with equal firmness to withstand,
The tempter's gold, the suitors proferr'd hand:
She knew mankind with deep deceit was fraught,
By dire experience and trouble taught:
The world foregone, when Heaven's reign begins,
Dispis'd its follies and condemn'd its sins,
This day from all its snares she gets release,
To tread the surer paths of endless peace.
Ask, gentle reader, of the recreant Muse
My history, my origin and use.
I am a bell in lofty steeple hung;
Where God is worshipp'd and his praise is sung.
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