Enraptur'd with the blissful change,
From field to field I wanton range;
From flow'r to flow'r, from tree to tree,
And see whate'er I wish to see;
Now glide along the daisy'd ground;
Now wheel in wanton circles round;
Now mount aloft, and sport in air,
Transported, when I will, and where,
Still present, to whate'er invites,
Each moment brings me new delights;
Nor fear allays the joys I know,
The dangers scorn'd that lurk below;
No trampling hoof, my former dread,
Can crush me, mangled, to the dead.
Ev'n man himself pursues, in vain,
My sportive circuit o'er the plain.'
He said, and raptur'd with the thought,
New charms his bright'ning plumage caught,
He clapt his wings, his rapid flight

I trac'd with fond desiring sight,
Oh! glorious state-reserv'd to this,
I risk not life for reptile bliss ;

Oh! catch the glowing wish from me,
The same the bliss reserv'd for thee;
Desist from ev'ry rash design,

And beauty, plumes, and wings are thine."

He ceas'd-th' Advent'rer thus reply'd :

'By thee the fancy'd change be try'd,

The now is mine, the now alone,

The future fate 's-a dark unknown!
To nature's voice my ears incline;
All lovely, loving, all divine!

To joy she courts, she points the way,
And chides this cold, this dull delay.
Farewell-let hope thy bliss supply,
And count thy gains with fancy's eye;
Be thine the wings that time shall send,
Believing and obliging friend."—

He said, and sneering sly disdain,
The neighb'ring leaf attempts to gain;
He falls-all bruis'd on earth he lies;
Too late repents, and groans, and dies.
His friendly monitor, with care,
Avoids each pleasure-baited snare,
False pleasure, false, and fatal too!
Superior joys he keeps in view;
They come the genial spring supplies
The wings he hoped, and lo! he flies;
Tastes all that summer suns prepare,
And all the joys of earth and air!

Two

}

In softest bands by love were join'd; 'Til tired of home Columbo grew, And pensive sigh'd for something new; For distant realms prepar'd to part,When spoke the partner of his heart: "Why should my dear Columbo rove, And leave me widow'd in the groveWhat ill can worse than absence prove? Yet let the toils, the perils, cares, Which fate for travellers prepares, Retard thy speed-attend the spring, And wait the zephyr's aiding wing; What haste?-this hour, ill omen'd found! The raven's croak was heard around;

Hawks, nets, and ills of ev'ry kind
Henceforth shall haunt my boding mind;
And what does Heav'n at home deny
That thou canst wish, or Heav'n supply?"

These words in doubt Columbo hold,
Still weakly vain, and rashly bold;
At length his restless wish prevails,
And love, and fear, and prudence fails :
When thus he spoke with cheerful air-
"From Turturella far be care,

No more let tears those eyes distain,
Whate'er I seek three days shall gain;
Returning then, to thee I'll tell
Whate'er I saw, or me befell:
Amusing thus the pensive day,
Who little see, can little say,
Of rich description full, my tale
Shall oft thy listening ear regale ;
The scenes I'll paint so strong, so true,
In fancy thou shalt travel too."

This said, Farewell dissolves his heart, And wet with mutual tears they part.

As Turturella pensive sate, In fancy wand'ring with her mate, Far as her utmost ken she sees A bird approach by slow degrees; Not form'd for flight he seem'd, nor song, But stopp'd by turns, and limp'd along : Her pains who feels can tell alone, The bird for chang'd Columbo known; Her mate, with pearly tears to greet, Down from her nest she flew to meet.

Awhile with silent grief opprest,
At length she softly him addrest:
"Oh! tell me, dear Columbo, tell

What scenes you saw, what woes befell;
Why wounded thus Columbo mourns,
And ere th' appointed day returns?"
With falt'ring voice Columbo cry'd,
"From thee no more my heart I hide-
Scarce from this peaceful grove I past
When sudden clouds the skies o'ercast;
I saw the storm, for shelter sought,
A single tree that shelter brought,
Thin leav'd, and pervious to the show'r,
I felt the rig'rous season's power.
The cloud dissolv'd, benumb'd with cold,
Again my dripping wings unfold;
In neighb'ring fields some corn I view,
And, hov'ring near, a turtle too ;
By flatt'ring hopes deluded there,
I struggled in the fowler's snare :
The turtle tutor'd to betray,
Beneath the bait a net there lay.
Unwonted strength despair supply'd,
I broke the snare my feet that ty'd;
With less than half my tail I fled,
And trail'd behind a broken thread,
A remnant of the snare, when lo!
A vulture sees me, dreadful foe!
Just as he stoop'd to snatch the prey,
From heav'n an eagle wing'd his way;
I, while the sons of rapine fight,
Improv'd the lucky hour in flight;