IV.

While innocence without disguise,

And conftancy fincere,

Shall fill the circles of those eyes,

Thofe ills that wait on all below

Shall ne'er be felt by me,

Or, gently felt, and only fo,
As being fhar'd with thee.

VI.

When lightnings flash among the trees,
Or kites are hov'ring near,

I fear left thee alone they feize,

And know no other fear.

VII.

'Tis then I feel myself a wife, And prefs thy wedded fide, Refolv'd an union form'd for life

Death never fhall divide.

VIII.

But, oh! if, fickle and unchafte,

(Forgive a tranfient thought)

Thou could become unkind at last,

And fcorn thy present lot,

IX.

No need of lightnings from on high,
Or kites with cruel beak;

Denied th' endearments of thine eye,

This widow'd heart would break.

X.

Thus fang the sweet fequefter'd bird
Soft as the paffing wind,

And I recorded what I heard

A leffon for mankind.

A FABLE.

A RAVEN, while with gloffy breast
Her new-laid eggs the fondly prefs'd,
And on her wicker-work high mounted
He chickens prematurely counted,
(A fault philofophers might blame
If quite exempted from the fame)

$2

Enjoy'd at ease the genial day;
'Twas April as the bumkins fay,
The legislature call'd it May.
But fuddenly a wind as high
As ever swept a winter sky

Shook the young leaves about her ears,
And fill'd her with a thousand fears,
Left the rude blast should snap the bough,
And spread her golden hopes below.
But juft at eve the blowing weather,
And all her fears were hush'd together:
And now, quoth poor unthinking Ralph,
'Tis over, and the brood is fafe;

(For Ravens, though, as birds of omen,
They teach both conj'rers and old women
To tell us what is to befall,

Can't prophefy themselves at all.)

The morning came, when neighbour Hodge, Who long had mark'd her airy lodge,

And deftin'd all the treasure there

A gift to his expecting fair,
Climb'd like a squirrel to his dray,
And bore the worthlefs prize away.