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ON A GOLDFINCH
STARVED TO DEATH IN HIS CAGE.
TIME was when I was free as air,
But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,
And of a transient datę;
For caught, and cag'd, and starv'd to death,
In dying sighs my little breath
Soon pass'd the wiry grate.
Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes,
And thanks for this effectual close
And cure of ev'ry ill!
More cruelty could none express;
And I, if had shown me less,
Had been your pris'ner still.
PINEAPPLE AND THE BEE.
THE pineapples, in triple row,
To ev'ry pane his trunk applied;
The sin and madness of mankind.
The nymph between two chariot glasses,
She is the pineapple, and he
The silly unsuccessful bee.
The maid, who views with pensive air
Our dear delights are often such,
HORACE, BOOK II. ODE X.
RECEIVE, dear friend, the truths I teach,
Of adverse Fortune's pow'r;
Along the treach❜rous shore.
He, that holds fast the golden mean,
The little and the great,
Feels not the wants, that pinch the poor,
Nor plagues, that haunt the rich man's door,
Imbitt'ring all his state,
The tallest pines feel most the pow'r
Of wintry blasts; the loftiest tow'r
The bolts, that spare the mountain's side,
And spread the ruin round.
The well inform'd philosopher
Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth,
What if thine Heav'n be overcast,
The dark appearance will not last;
Expect a brighter sky.
The God, that strings the silver bow,
If hindrances obstruct thy way,
And let thy strength be seen;