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Charlotte

March 1949

THE DOG: AND THE WATER-LILY.-NO

FABLE.
The noon was shady, and soft airs

Swept Ouse's silent tide,
When, 'scap'd from literary cares,

I wander'd on his side.
My spaniel, prettiest of his race,

And high in pedigree,
(I'wo nymphs, adorn’d with ev'ry grace,

That spaniel found for me,)
Now wanton'd 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 display'd

His lilies newly blown ;
Their beauties I intent survey'd,

And one I wish'd my own.
With cane extended far, I sought

To steer it close to land ;
But still the prize, though nearly caught,

Escaped my eager hand.
Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains, - ...
.. With fix'd consid’rate face,

And puzzling, set his puppy brains

To comprehend the case.
But with a cherup clear and strong,

Dispersing all his dream,
I thence withdrew, and follow'd long

The windings of the stream.
My ramble finish’d, I return’d.

Beau trotting far before,
The floating wreath again discern'd,

And plunging left the shore.
I saw him, with that lily cropp d,, .

Impatient swim to meet
· My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd

The treasure at my feet,
Charm'd with the sight, the world, I cried,

Shall hear of this thy deed,
My dog shall mortify the pride

Of man's superior breed';.
But chief, myself I will enjoin,

Awake at duty's call,,
To show a love, as prompt as thine,
To Him who gives me all.

COWPER.

CRUELTY TO ANIMALS.
I would not enter on my list of friends,
(Though grac'd with polish'd manners and fine sense,
Yet wanting sensibility,) the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
An inadvertent step may crush the snail
That crawls at evening in the public path;
But he that has humanity, forewarn'd,
Will tread aside, and let the reptile live..
The creeping vermin, loathsome to the sight,
And charged perhaps with venom, that intrudes,
A visitor unwelcome, into scenes
Sacred to neatness and repose, th' alcove,
The chamber, or refectory, may die :
A necessary act incurs no blame.
Not so, when held within their proper bounds,
And guiltless of offence, they range the air,
Or take their pastime in the spacious field.
There they are privileg'd. And he that hunts
Or harms them there, is guilty of a wrong;
Disturbs th' economy of Nature's realm,
Who, when she form’d, design'd them an abođe.

The sum is this; if man's convenience, health,
Or safety, interfere, his rights and claims
Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs.

Else they are all the meanest things that are,
As free to live, and to enjoy that life, ..
As God was free to form them at the first,
Who, in his sov'reign wisdom, made them all.
Ye, therefore, who love mercy, teach your sons
To love it too. The spring-time of our years
Is soon dishonour'd and defil'd in most,
By budding ills, that ask a prudent hand
To check them. But, alas ! none sooner shoots,
If unrestrain'd, into luxuriant growth,
Than cruelty, most baneful of them all.
Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule
And righteous limitation of its act,
By which Heav'n moves in pard’ning guilty man:
And he that shows none, being ripe in years,
And conscious of the outrage he commits,
Shall seek it, and not find i; in his turn.

COWPER.

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FLORA AND THE BOY. A boy one morn into a garden stray'd,

Which Flora had adorn’d with sweetest flow'rs; Roses, azalias, lilies, pinks, display'd

Their various charms, their fascinating pow'rs.

The little rogue, delighted, view'd the rich parterre,

And lodg’d to rifle ev'ry beauty there :
But Flora, when she saw him thus dispos'd,
Drew near, and wisely interpos’d:

She smiling said, “ My little friend,
To one alone your choice must be confin'd;
Look round, select one to your mind,

Where balmy odours with rare beauty blend."
He quickly laid his hand upon a rose,

Whose charms might well his little heart engage, When soon the thorns his rude attack oppose. With indignation fir’d, He from the lurking enemy retir’d,

And scornful thus express'd his idle rage : “Go, wither on thy stem, thou treach'rous flow'r,

“ There pine and fade, neglected and forlorn ; “ I'll seek another rose in yonder bow'r,

“Who, fair like thee, shall blow without one thorn." He ran to pluck one from the clust'ring store, Each bow'r examin’d o’er and o'er, As vainly, search'd the garden round, Alas! no rose without a thorn was to be found. His heart beat high with rising pride, That thus his wishes were denied, .

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