Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair; TO MY BIRDIE. - Mrs. Southey. HERE's only you an' me, Birdie! here's only you an' me! An' there you sit, you humdrum fowl! Sae mute an' mopish as an owl, — little Sing me a little song, Birdie! lift up a lay! The lee lang day; An' now we're only twa, Birdie! an' now we 're only twa; 'T were sure but kind and cozie, Birdie ! Ye ken when folks are paired, Birdie! ye ken when folks are paired, Life's fair, an' foul, an 1 freakish weather, An' light an' lumbring loads, thegither Maun a' be shared; An' shared wi' looin' hearts, Birdie! wi' looin hearts and free, Fu' fashious loads may weel be borne ; An' roughest roads to velvet turn, Trod cheerfully. We've all our cares and crosses, Birdie! we've a' our cares an' crosses; But then to sulk an' sit so glum, Hout! tout! what guid o' that can come To mend one's losses? Ye're clipt in wiry fence, Birdie! ye 're clipt in wiry fence, An' aiblins I, gin I mote gang Wi' friends far hence; But what's a wish, ye ken, Birdie! but what's a wish, ye ken, Nae cantrip nag, like hers of Fife, Who darnit wi' the auld weird wife, Flood, fell, an' fen. 'Tis true ye 're furnished fair, Birdie! 't is true ye 're furnished fair, Wi' a braw pair of bonnie wings Wad lift ye whar yon lav'rock sings High up i' th' air; But then that wire's sae strang, Birdie! but then that wire 's sae strang! An' I myself, sae seemin' free,— Nae wings have I to waften me Whar fain I'd gang. An' sae we'd baith our wills, Birdie! we d each our wilfu' way; Whar lav'rocks hover, fa.cons fly; An' snares an' pitfa's often lie Whar wishes stray. An' ae thing weel 1 wot, Birdie! an' ae thing weel I wot, There's ane abune the highest sphere Wha cares for a' his creatures here, Wha guards the crownéd king, Birdie! wha guards the crownéd king, An' taketh heed for sic as me, Sae little worth,―an' e'en for thee, Puir witless thing! Sae now, let's baith cheer up, Birdie! an' sin' we 're only twa Aff han'- let 's ilk ane do our best, To ding that crabbit, cankered pest, Dull care awa'! HAPPY insect! what can be "T is filled wherever thou dost tread, The shepherd gladly heareth thee, Thee country hinds with gladness hear, Thee Phœbus loves, and does inspire; Phœbus is himself thy sire. To thee, of all things upon earth, Life is no longer than thy mirth. Happy insect! happy thou Dost neither age nor winter know; But, when thou 'st drunk, and danced, and sung Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, Sated with thy summer feast, Thou retir'st to endless rest. "HAST thou seen that lordly castle, That castle by the sea? Golden and red above it The clouds float gorgeously. "And fain it would stoop downward In the evening's crimson glow." "Well have I seen that castle, "The winds and the waves of ocean, Had they a merry chime? Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers, The harp and the minstrel's rhyme ?" "The winds and the waves of ocean, But I heard on the gale a sound of wail, "And sawest thou on the turrets "Led they not forth, in rapture, "Well saw I the ancient parents, Without the crown of pride; They were moving slow, in weeds of woe; No maiden was by their side!" |