has just completed his tenth year, discovering no signs of decay, nor even of age, except that he has grown more discreet and less frolicsome than he was. I cannot conclude without observing, that I have lately introduced a dog to his acquaintance, a spaniel that had never seen a hare to a hare that had never seen a spaniel. I did it with great caution, but there was no real need of it. Puss discovered no token of fear, nor Marquis the least symptom of hostility. There is therefore, it should seem, no natural antipathy between dog and hare, but the pursuit of the one occasions the flight of the other, and the dog pursues because he is trained to it; they eat bread at the same time out of the same hand, and are in all respects sociable and friendly. I should not do complete justice to my subject, did I not add, that they have no ill scent belonging to them, that they are indefatigably nice in keeping themselves clean, for which purpose nature has furnished them with a brush under each foot; and that they are never infested by any vermin. May 28, 1784. MEMORANDUM FOUND AMONG MR. COWPER'S PAPERS. Tuesday, March 9, 1786. This day died poor Puss, aged eleven years eleven months. He died between twelve and one at noon, of mere old age, and apparently without pain. A TALE.* In Scotland's realms, where trees are few, But where, however bleak the view, Some better things are found; *This tale is founded on an article which appeared in the Buckinghamshire Herald, Saturday, June 1, 1793: -"Glasgow, May 23. In a block, or pulley, near the head of the mast of a gabert, now lying at the Broomielaw, there is a chaffinch's nest and four eggs. The nest was built while the vessel lay at Greenock, and was fol For husband there and wife may boast Their union undefiled, And false ones are as rare almost In Scotland's realm forlorn and bare The spring drew near, each felt a breast They pair'd, and would have built a nest, The heaths uncover'd and the moors Long time a breeding-place they sought, A ship!-could such a restless thing Or was the merchant charged to bring Hush! silent hearers profit most— This racer of the sea Proved kinder to them than the coast, lowed hither by both birds. Though the block is occasionally lowered for the inspection of the curious, the birds have not forsaken the nest. The cock, however, visits the nest but seldom, while the hen never leaves it, but when she descends to the hull for food." But such a tree! 'twas shaven deal, Within that cavity aloft Their roofless home they fix'd, Form'd with materials neat and soft, Bents, wool, and feathers mix'd. Four ivory eggs soon pave its floor The mother-bird is gone to sea, No-soon as from ashore he saw The winged mansion move, He flew to reach it, by a law Of never-failing love; Then, perching at his consort's side, Was briskly borne along, The seaman with sincere delight For seamen much believe in signs, Each some approaching good divines, Hail, honor'd land! a desert where Not even birds can hide, Yet parents of this loving pair And ye who, rather than resign Were not afraid to plough the brine For whose lean country much disdain We English often show, Yet from a richer nothing gain But wantonness and woe Be it your fortune, year by year June, 1793. TO MARY. THE twentieth year is well nigh past Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow; My Mary! "Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more; My Mary! For, though thou gladly wouldst fulfil Thy sight now seconds not thy will, My Mary! But well thou play'dst the housewife's part, And all thy threads with magic art Have wound themselves about this heart, Thy indistinct expressions seem My Mary! Like language uttered in a dream: Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, My Mary! For, could I view nor them nor thee, Partakers of thy sad decline, My Mary! Thy hands their little force resign; Such feebleness of limbs thou provest, My Mary! And still to love, though press'd with ill, My Mary! |