VI. THE THRACIAN.

THRACIAN parents, at his birth,
Mourn their babe with many a tear,
But with undissembled mirth

Place him breathless on his bier.

Greece and Rome, with equal scorn,
O the savages! exclaim,
Whether they rejoice or mourn,
Well entitled to the name?

But the cause of this concern,
And this pleasure would they trace,
Even they might somewhat learn
From the savages of Thrace.

VII. A MANUAL

MORE ANCIENT THAN THE ART OF PRINTING, AND NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY CATALOGUE.

THERE is a book, which we may call

(Its excellence is such),

Alone a library, though small:

The ladies thumb it much.

Words none, things numerous it contains:
And, things with words compared,
Who needs be told, that has his brains,
Which merit most regard?

Ofttimes its leaves of scarlet hue
A golden edging boast;
And, open'd, it displays to view
Twelve pages at the most.

Nor name nor title, stamp'd behind,

Adorns its outer part;

But all within 'tis richly lined,
A magazine of art,

The whitest hands that secret hoard
Oft visit; and the fair
Preserve it in their bosoms stored,
As with a miser's care.

Thence implements of every size,
And form'd for various use
(They need but to consult their eyes),
They readily produce.

The largest and the longest kind
Possess the foremost page,
A sort most needed by the blind,
Or nearly such, from age.

The full charged leaf, which next ensues,
Presents in bright array

The smaller sort, which matrons use,
Not quite so blind as they.

The third, the fourth, the fifth supply
What their occasions ask,

Who, with a more discerning eye,

Perform a nicer task.

But still with regular decrease,
From size to size they fall,
In every leaf grows less and less;

The last are least of all.

O! what a fund of genius, pent'
In narrow space, is here!
This volume's method and intent
How luminous and clear!

It leaves no reader at a loss,
Or posed, whoever reads;
No commentator's tedious gloss,
Nor even index needs.

Search Bodley's many thousands o'er !

No book is treasured there,

Nor yet in Granta's numerous store,
That may with this compare.

No!-Rival none in either host

Of this was ever seen,

Or that contents could justly boast
So brilliant and so keen.

VIII. AN ENIGMA.

A NEEDLE, small as small can be,
In bulk and use surpasses me,
Nor is my purchase dear;
For little, and almost for nought,
As many of my kind are bought,
As days are in the year.

Yet though but little use we boast,
And are procured at little cost,
The labour is not light;
Nor few artificers it asks,
All skilful in their several tasks,
To fashion us aright.

One fuses metal o'er the fire,
A second draws it into wire,
The shears another plies,

Who clips in lengths the brazen thread
For him, who, chafing every shred,
Gives all an equal size.

A fifth prepares, exact and round,
The knob, with which it must be crown'd;
His follower makes it fast:

And with his mallet and his file,

To shape the point, employs awhile

The seventh and the last.

Now therefore, Edipus! declare
What creature, wonderful and rare,

A process, that obtains
Its purpose with so much ado,
At last produces! tell me true,
And take me for your pains!

IX. SPARROWS SELF-DOMESTICATED

IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

NONE ever shared the social feast,
Or as an inmate or a guest,
Beneath the celebrated dome
Where once Sir Isaac had his home,
Who saw not (and with some delight
Perhaps he view'd the novel sight)
How numerous, at the tables there,
The sparrows beg their daily fare.
For there, in every nook and cell,
Where such a family may dwell,
Sure as the vernal season comes,
Their nests they weave in hope of crumbs,
Which, kindly given, may serve with food
Convenient their unfeather'd brood;
And oft as with its summons clear
The warning bell salutes their ear,
Sagacious listeners to the sound,
They flock from all the fields around,
To reach the hospitable hall,
None more attentive to the call.
Arrived, the pensionary band,
Hopping and chirping, close at hand,
Solicit what they soon receive,
The sprinkled plenteous donative.
Thus is a multitude, though large,
Supported at a trivial charge;
A single doit would overpay
The' expenditure of every day,.
And who can grudge so small a grace
To suppliants, natives of the place?

X.

FAMILIARITY DANGEROUS.

As in her ancient mistress' lap

The youthful tabby lay,

They gave each other many a tap,
Alike disposed to play.

But strife ensues. Puss waxes warm,
And with protruded claws
Ploughs all the length of Lydia's arm,
Mere wantonness the cause.

At once, resentful of the deed,

She shakes her to the ground,
With many a threat that she shall bleed
With still a deeper wound.

But, Lydia, bid thy fury rest;

It was a venial stroke;

For she that will with kittens jest,
Should bear a kitten's joke.

XI.

INVITATION TO THE REDBREAST.

SWEET bird, whom the winter constrains-
And seldom another it can-

To seek a retreat, while he reigns,

In the well shelter'd dwellings of man,

Who never can seem to intrude,
Though in all places equally free,

Come, oft as the season is rude,

Thou art sure to be welcome to me.

At sight of the first feeble ray,
That pierces the clouds of the east,
To inveigle thee every day

My windows shall show thee a feast.