DIALOGUE

BETWEEN A CANARY BIRD AND MALE SPARROW.

I am like the man who in the Persian Tales understood the language of Birds. A Canary Bird of mine was placed in a balcony this morning as I was at breakfast. He was in full song, and in his cage of gold wire. A pert little male Sparrow, as brown as a nut, hopped round him, and picked up his crumbs. I listened; and this was their dialogue, word for word. I am sure of my note-book.

CANARY BIRD.

WHAT are you about there, with your foraging bill? Was Canary-seed made hopping Sparrows to fill? You'll have dainties forsooth till you 're pamper'd and sick,

Though in fields or in hedges a meal you can pick.

SPARROW.

With submission, my Lord, it's no desperate sin For your chaff and your husk if a beggar puts in; You're so rich, and so nice, that your taste can afford What is dropp'd now and then from your plentiful board.

Though I'm charm'd with your song, though I covet your plumes,

If my homage is bold, if my rapture presumes, Think what myriads besides are such culprits of

yours

The forbearance of mercy their number* ensures.

* If I could suppose that sparrows read any Poet (but Ovid) I should rather suspect that he had read Horace for this allusion: Defendit numerus.

CANARY BIRD.

With a taste so refin'd you will never offend —
You are no common bird; eat away, my good friend!
Your brown jacket's quite smart, though it wants
a lapelle:

It's a very fine day;-you left all at home well?

SPARROW.

Yes, my wife, or my wives I should rather have said,
Are as well as the wives that in London are bred;
I have married a dozen or two as I came,

But so much was in haste that not one could I name:
The nice dear little bob-tails were pleas'd as we met,
But they left me all mirth, and their husband forget.

CANARY BIRD.

Oh, my dear little rake! how I envy your life,
That whenever you ramble pick up a new wife:
I have no such amusements, but live in parade,
And I sing to be fed by the mistress or maid.
Oh, for nature and freedom! the hedge and the wood!
Independence is wealth, and good spirits are food.
But the wives above all!-

SPARROW.

You shall have them to-morrowIf your cage in return, and your seed, I can borrow, But your song and your beauty are mine by the change, For the charter of air, and the license to range.

CANARY BIRD.

Little merchant! I'll whisper two words in your ear; We are best as we are; I can make it appear:

Should the cage be left open, and we fly away,
No canary bird female around us can play;
For the want of a maid or a mistress to carve,

In the midst of your berries and fruits we should starve.
You have nature before you,-no dish comes amiss;
We are curs'd with a taste that eats nothing but this:
Nay the
song if you left us, a song without food,
Our master will tell you, will do us no good;
He can sing pretty well, but like us in a cage-
And his notes, like his years, are accus'd of old age.

SPARROW.

I am off; and my nature would now be my choice:
I can chirp, though I have not an Opera voice;
For a mate at command, romp with all I can meet ;
And for want of a palate all dishes can eat.

THE BODY AND THE MIND;

A DIALOGUE,

Occasioned by a fit of the colic, a painful cough, and a fever, at the moment of a severe affliction.

THE Body, jealous of the Mind,

For agony's division pin'd;

"Shall I," said he, "who share her pleasure,

Be robb'd of her affliction's measure?

Denied the talents to endure,

And mock'd into a sinecure,

When she upon the rack is thrown,

And makes the bed of thorns her own!"
Apollo heard; and, from the bow,
Which tries the lov'd, and kills the foe;

To shake the lungs a cough he sent,

An arrow to the colic lent;

He pierc'd the heart, the nerves oppress'd,
And robb'd the heated veins of rest.
The Body found its prowess fail,
And curs'd the pestilential gale ;
For solace to the Mind repair'd,

And pains like these would fain have spar'd;
Nay-to the Mind would fain impart
The point and venom of the dart.

But still the Mind its throne sustain'd,

And firm as adamant remain'd;
With dignity and settled grief
Abjur'd impertinent relief,

But smil'd at the intrusion vain
Of this corporeal victim's pain:
"Shall I," she said, "on billows tost,
My honour fled, my wishes cross'd,
Survive the tortures of regret,
And live-despairing to forget?
But still upon Ixion's wheel
Your flimsy colic deign to feel?
Your pleasures lying on the shelf,
Pray keep your sufferings to yourself."

THE ROSE AND THE OAK.

Friends that in joy have been together bless'd, Are but united Rose-buds at the best,

But friends thatbraveOppression'sthunderingstrokes, Are two combin'd inseparable Oaks.

THE VINE AND THE ELM.

I planted once a young and modest Vine;
An Elm was near it, and they both were mine;
I saw them shoot, and spread their branches wide-
The root their spirit, but the hand their guide.

I watch'd them—and the mountain-goat I chac'd,
That soon would all their beauties have defac'd;
But, on a sudden, by each other held,
My fears, when thus united, they dispell'd.

See how that pliant stem its folds can bend,
And round the Elm unprompted can ascend!
The Muse to these two plants would fain compare
The living union of a married pair.

THE POET AND THE RECTOR.

"FOE to the heart's poetic style, Dull Avarice, the Rector's bile, Corroding jaundice of the mind, For- *, not for me design'd; Away to funds of Bank Exchange, Nor visions of the Nine derange.' "The Nine ?" said Avarice, "I'll have eight; An eighth allotment is my due:"

Away the laughing Muses flew.

* A Miser, who is of course anonymous.