First from England's southern shore Cross the towering Pyrenees, 'Mid myrtle groves and orange trees; Entering then the wild domain Where wolves prowl round the flocks of Spain, Where silk-worms spin, and olives grow, And mules plod surely on and slow. LUCY AIKIN. THE PINE-APPLE AND THE BEE. THE pine-apples in triple row, Were basking hot, and all in blow; ▲ bee of most discerning taste Our dear delights are often such: COWPER. DISPUTE BETWEEN NOSE AND EYES. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of wit, and a wig full of learning, While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning. In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession, time out of mind. Then holding the spectacles up to the court Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the bridge of the Nose is, in short, Design'd to sit close to it, just like a saddle. Again; would your lordship a moment suppose ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? On the whole it appears, that my argument shows, Then shifting his side (as the lawyer knows how,) But what were his arguments few people know, For the court did not think they were equally wise. So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but, That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By day-light, or candle-light, Eyes should be shut. BENEATH the hedge, or near the stream, A worm is known to stray, That shows by night a lucid beam, Disputes have been, and still prevail, Some give that honour to his tail, But this is sure-the hand of might, That kindles up the skies, Perhaps indulgent nature meant; Nor crush a worm, whose ́useful light To show a stumbling-stone by night, Whate'er she meant, this truth divine 'Tis pow'r almighty bids him shine, Ye proud and wealthy, let this theme COWPER. |