Long time a breeding-place they sought,
Till both grew vex'd and tired;
At length a ship arriving, brought
The good so long desired.
A ship!-could such a restless thing
Afford them place of rest?
Or was the merchant charged to bring
The homeless birds a nest ?
Hush!-silent hearers profit most-
This racer of the sea
Proved kinder to them than the coast,
It served them with a tree.
But such a tree! 'twas shaven deal,
The tree they call a mast,
And had a hollow, with a wheel
Through which the tackle pass'd.
Within that cavity aloft,
Their roofless home they fix'd; Formed with materials neat and soft, Bents, wool, and feathers mixed.
Four ivory eggs soon pave its floor,
With russet specks bedight,
The vessel weighs, forsakes the shore,
And lessens to the sight.
The mother bird is gone to sea,
As she had changed her kind;
But goes the male? Far wiser he,
Is doubtless left behind!
No!-soon as from the shore he saw
The winged mansion move,
He flew to reach it, by a faw
Of never-failing love.
Then perching at his consort's side,
Was briskly borne along,
The billows and the blast defied,
And cheered her with a song.
The seaman with sincere delight,
His feathered shipmates eyes,
Scarce less exulting In the sight
Than when he tows a prize.
For seamen much believe in signs,
And from a chance so new,
Each some approaching good divines,
And may his hopes be true!
Hail, honored land! a desert where
Not even birds can hide,
Yet parent of this loving pair
Whom nothing could divide.
And ye who rather than resign
Your matrimonial plan,
Where not afraid to plough the brine
In company with man.
To whose lean country much disdain
We English often show,
Yet from a richer nothing gain
But wantonness and woe.
Be it your fortune year by year,
The same resource to prove,
And may ye sometimes, landing here,
Instruct us how to love.
FIFTH SATIRE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF
A HUMOROUS DESCRIPTION OF THE AUTHOR'S JOURNEY
FROM ROME TO BRUNDUSIUM.
'Twas a long journey lay before us,
When I, and honest Heliodorus,
Who far in point of rhetoric
Surpasses ev'ry living Greek,
Each leaving our respective home
Together sallied forth from Rome.
First at Aricia we alight,
And there refresh, and pass the night,
Our entertainment rather coarse
Than sumptuous, but I've met with worse.
Thence o'er the causeway soft and fair
To Appii Forum we repair.
But as this road is well supplied
(Temptation strong!) on either side
With inns commodious, snug, and warm,
We split the journey, and perform
In two days' time what's often done
By brisker travellers in one.
Here, rather choosing not to sup
Than with bad water mix my cup,
After a warm debate, in spite
Of a provoking appetite,
I sturdily resolved at last
To baulk it, and pronounce a fast,
And in a moody humour wait,
While my less dainty comrades bait
Now o'er the spangled hemisphere
Diffused the starry train appear,
When there arose a desp'rate brawl:
The slaves and bargemen, one and all,
Rending their throats (have mercy on us!)
As if they were resolved to stun us,
"Steer the barge this way to the shore;
I tell you we'll admit no more;
Plague! will you never be content?"
Thus a whole hour at least is spent,
While they receive the sev'ral fares,
And kick the mule into his gears.
Happy, these difficulties past,
Could we have fall'n asleep at last!
But, what with humming, croaking, biting,
Gnats, frogs, and all their plagues uniting,
These tuneful natives of the lake
Conspired to keep us broad awake.
Besides, to make the concert full,
Two maudlin wights, excceding dull,
The bargeman and a passenger,
Each in his turn, essay'd an air,
In honor of his absent fair.
At length the passenger, opprest
With wine, left off, and snored the rest,
The weary bargeman too gave ‘o'er,
And hearing his companions snore,
Seized the occasion, fix'd the barge,
Turn'd out his mule to graze at large,
And slept forgetful of his charge.
And now the sun o'er eastern hill,
Discover'd that our barge stood still;
When one, whose anger vex'd him sore,
With malice fraught, leaps quick on shore;
I lucks up a stake, with many a thwack
Assails the mule and driver's back.
Then slowly moving on with pain,
At ten Feronia's stream we gain,
And in her pure and glassy wave
Our hands and faces gladly lave.
Climbing three miles, fair Anxur's height
We reach, with stony quarries white.
While here, as was agreed, we wait,
Till, charged with business of the state,
Mæcenas and Cocceius come,
The messengers of peace from Rome.
My eyes, by wat'ry humours blear
And sore, I with black balsam smear.
At length they join us, and with them
Our worthy friend Fonteius came;
A man of such complete desert,
Antony loved him at his heart.
At Fundi we refused to bait,
And laugh'd at vain Aufidius' state,
A prætor now, a scribe before,
The purple-border'd robe he wore,
His slave the smoking censer bore.
Tired, at Murænas we repose,
At Formia sup at Capito's.
With smiles the rising morn we greet,
At Sinuessa pleased to meet
With Plotius, Varius, and the bard,
Whom Mantua first with wonder heard.
The world no purer spirits knows ;
For none my heart more warmly glows.
O! what embraces we bestowed,
And with what joy our hearts o'erflow'd!
Sure, while my sense is sound and clear,
Long as I live, I shall prefer
A gay, good natured, easy friend,
To ev'ry blessing Heav'n can send.
At a small village the next night
Near the Vulturnous we alight;
Where, as employ'd on state affairs,
We were supplied by the purvey'rs
Frankly at once, and without hire,
With food for man and horse, and fire.
Capua next day betimes we reach,
Where Virgil and myself, who each
Labour'd with different maladies,
His such a stomach, mine such eyes,
As would not bear strong exercise,
In drowsy mood to sleep resort ;
Mæcenas to the tennis-court.
Next at Cocceius's farm we're treated,
Above the Caudian tavern seated;
His kind and hospitable board
With choice of wholesome food was stored.
Now, O ye Nine, inspire my lays!
To nobler themes my fancy raise !
Two combatants, who scorn to yield
The noisy, tongue-disputed field,
Sarmentus and Cicirrus, claim
A poet's tribute to their fame;
Cicirrus of true Oscian breed,
Sarmentus, who was never freed,
But ran away. We don't defame him;
His lady lives, and still may claim him.
Thus dignified, in harder fray
These champions their keen wit display,
And first Sarmentus led the way.
"Thy locks (quoth he), so rough and coarse,
Look like the mane of some wild horse.”
We laugh Cicirrus undismay'd-
"Have at you !"-cries, and shakes his head.
""Tis well (Sarmenus says) you've lost
That horn your forehead once could boast;
Since, maim'd and mangled as you are,
You seem to butt." A hideous scar
Improved ('tis true) with double grace
The native horrors of his face.
Well. After much jocosely said
Of his grim front, so fiery red
(For carbuncles had blotch'd it o'er,
As usual on Campania's shore),
"Give us (he cried), since you're so big,
A sample of the Cyclops' jig!
Your shanks methinks no buskins ask,
Nor does your phiz require a mask."
To this Cicirrus. "In return
Of you, Sir, now I fain would learn,
When 'twas, no longer deem'd a slave,
Your chains you to the Lares gave.
For tho' a scriv'ner's right your claim,
Your ladys' title is the same.
But what could make you run away,
Since, pigmy as you are, each day.
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