5 10 THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY° NO FABLE THE noon was shady, and soft airs When, 'scaped from literary cares, I wandered on his side. My spaniel, prettiest of his race, (Two nymphs adorned with every grace That spaniel found for me) Now wantoned, lost in flags and reeds, Now starting into sight, Pursued the swallow o'er the meads With scarce a slower flight. It was the time when Ouse displayed His lilies newly blown; Their beauties I intent surveyed And one I wished my own. With cane extended far, I sought To steer it close to land; But still the prize, though nearly caught, Beau marked my unsuccessful pains With fixed considerate face, And puzzling set his puppy brains But with a cherup clear and strong, I thence withdrew, and followed long My ramble ended, I returned; Beau trotting far before, The floating wreath again discerned, I saw him with that lily cropped Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon he dropped Charmed with the sight, "The world," I cried, "Shall hear of this thy deed: My dog shall mortify the pride But chief myself I will enjoin, To show a love as prompt as thine, To Him who gives me all." 35 40 THE SHRUBBERY WRITTEN IN A TIME OF AFFLICTION I OH happy shades! to me unblest! II This glassy stream, that spreading pine, III But fixed unalterable Care Foregoes not what she feels within, Shows the same sadness everywhere, And slights the season and the scene. IV For all that pleased in wood or lawn, While peace possessed these silent bowers, Her animating smile withdrawn, Has lost its beauties and its powers. 5 10 15 V The saint or moralist should tread This moss-grown alley, musing, slow; VI Me fruitful scenes and prospects waste THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT FORCED from home and all its pleasures, To increase a stranger's treasures, Men from England bought and sold me, But, though slave they have enrolled me, Still in thought as free as ever, Skins may differ, but affection Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant for which we toil? Think how many backs have smarted, Is there, 25 Speaking from His throne, the sky? Hark! He answers! - Wild tornadoes, Afric's sons should undergo, 30 35 He, foreseeing what vexations Fixed their tyrants' habitations Where His whirlwinds answer "No." 40 |