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Her conscious tail her joy declared:
The fair round face, the snowy beard,

The velvet of her paws,
Her coat that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,

She saw; and purr'd applause.

Still had she gazed, but 'midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,

The Genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view

Betray'd a golden gleam.

The hapless Nymph with wonder saw: A whisker first, and then a claw

With many an ardent wish She stretch'd, in vain, to reach the prize What female heart can gold despise?

What Cat's averse to Fish?

Presumptuous maid! with looks intent Again she stretch'd, again she bent,

Nor knew the gulf between Malignant Fate sat by and smiled The slippery verge her feet beguiled;

She tumbled headlong in!

Eight times emerging from the flood
She mew'd to every watery God

Some speedy aid to send:-
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd,
Nor cruel Tom nor Susan heard

A favourite has no friend!

From hence, ye Beauties, undeceived,
Know one false step is ne'er retrieved,

And be with caution bold:
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize,
Nor all that glisters, gold!




Good people all, of every sort

Give ear unto my song;
And if you find it wondrous short,

It cannot hold you long.

In Islington there was a man,

Of whom the world might say,
That still a godly race he ran

Whene'er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had,

To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad,

When he put on his clothes.

And in that town a dog was found,

As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,

And curs of low degree.

This dog and man at first were friends;

But when a pique began,
The dog, to gain his private ends,

Went mad, and bit the man.

Around from all the neighbouring streets

The wondering neighbours ran, And swore the dog had lost his wits,

To bite so good a man.

The wound it seem'd both sore and sad

To every Christian eye:
And while they swore the dog was mad,

They swore the man would die.

But soon a wonder came to light,

That show'd the rogues they lied,
The man recover'd of the bite,
The dog it was that died.



Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun

Has not attain'd his noon.

Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day

Has run
But to the even-song;
And, having pray'd together, we

Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,

We have as short a Spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you, or anything.

We die,
As your hours do, and dry

Like to the Summer's rain;
Or as the pearls of morning's dew,
Ne'er to be found again.



Sing for the sun your lyric, lark

Of twice ten thousand notes;
Sing for the moon, you nightingales,

Whose light shall kiss your throats;
Sing, sparrows, for the soft warm rain,

To wet your feathers through; And, when a rainbow's in the sky, Sing you, cuckoo "Cuckoo!”

Sing for your five blue eggs, fond thrush,

By many a leaf concealed;
You starlings, wrens, and blackbirds sing

In every wood and field:
While I, who fail to give my love

Long raptures twice as fine,
Will for her beauty breathe this one
A sigh, that's more divine.



WHEN icicles hang by the wall

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail;
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl

Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note!
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,

And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl
Then nightly sings the staring owl

Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note!
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.


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