Classic Poem

Addressed to R. B. F. and C. F. when Boys .

A S , eager round a spreading bush,
Two thoughtless children ran,
Perch'd on a trembling twig — a thrush —
Her plaintive tale began, —
She raised her song, she strain'd her throat,
Expressive of her pain,
And pour'd the oft-repeated note
Along the neighb'ring plain:
The tumult in her swelling breast
Gave vigour to her tongue;
She mourn'd her low, defenceless nest,
She mourn'd her callow-young:
But wasted on the desert air,
Had sunk the plaintive lay —
(For strangers still to notes of care,
Are boys, wrapt up in play) —
If Laura had not mark'd her strain,
And mark'd her swelling breast;
She caught the tones, replete with pain,
And trembled for the nest!
" Away, dear boys, — quick haste away,
" Mark yonder anxious thrush;
" See how she flutters from the spray,
" And lures ye, from the bush:
" To nature's voice, O lend an ear,
" She swells her plaintive cry;
" And prompts the sympathetic tear —
" That twinkles in my eye:
" When nature acts her wonted part
" By providence assign'd,
" She tunes to sympathy the heart,
" And dignifies the mind. "