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My friends! be cautious how ye treat The subject upon which we meet;

I fear we shall have winter yet.

A Finch, whose tongue knew no control, With golden wing and satin poll,

A last year's bird, who ne'er had tried
What marriage means, thus pert replied:
Methinks the gentleman, quoth she,
Opposite in the apple-tree,

By his good will would keep us single

Till yonder Heav'n and Earth shall mingle, Or (which is likelier to befall)

Till death exterminate us all.

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My dear Dick,Redcap, what say you?

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Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling, Turning short round, strutting and sideling, Attested, glad, his approbation

Of an immediate conjugation.

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Their sentiments so well express'd

Influenc'd mightily the rest,

All pair'd, and each pair built a nest.

But though the birds were thus in haste,
The leaves came on not quite so fast,
And Destiny, that sometimes bears.
An aspect stern on man's affairs,
Not altogether smil❜d on theirs.

The wind, of late breath'd gently forth,
Now shifted east, and east by north;

Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know,

Could shelter them from rain or snow,

Stepping into their nests, they paddled,

Themselves were chill'd, their eggs were addled;

Soon ev'ry father bird and mother

Grew quarrelsome, and peck'd each other,

Parted without the least regret,

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Except that they had ever met,

And learn'd in future to be wiser,

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Than to neglect a good adviser.

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THE noon was shady, and soft airs

Swept Ouse's silent tide,

When 'scap'd from literary cares,

I wander'd on his side.

My spaniel, prettiest of his race,

And high in pedigree,

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(Two nymphs adorn'd with ev'ry grace

That spaniel found for me)

Sir Robert Gunning's daughters.

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Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds,

Now starting into sight

Pursued the swallow o'er the meads

With scarce a slower flight.

It was the time when Ouse display'd
His lilies newly blown;

Their beauties I intent survey'd,
And one I wish'd my own.

With-cane extended far I sought

To steer it close to land;

But still the prize, though nearly caught,

Escap'd my eager hand.

Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains

With fix'd consid'rate face,

And puzzling set his puppy brains,

To comprehend the case.

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But with a cherup clear and strong,
Dispersing all his dream,

I thence withdrew, and follow'd long
The windings of the stream.

My ramble ended, I return'd:
Beau, trotting far before,

The floating wreath again discern'd,"
And plunging left the shore.

I saw him with that lily cropp'd

Impatient swim to meet

My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd

The treasure at my feet.

Charm'd with the sight, the world, I cried,

Shall hear of this thy deed:

My dog shall mortify the pride

Of man's superior breed;

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