VERSES TO A ROBIN REDBREAST,

WHO VISITS THE WINDOW OP MY PRISON EVERY DAT.

Welcome, pretty little strauger!

Welcome to my lone retreat!
Here secure from every danger,
Hop about, and chirp, and eat.
Robin! how I envy thee,
Happy child of liberty!

Now though tyrant Winter, howling,

Shakes the world with tempests round,
Heaven above with vapours scowling,
Frost imprisons all the ground;—
Robin! what are these to thee 1
Thou art blest with liberty.

Though yon fair majestic river*

Mourns in solid icy chains;
Though yon flocks and cattle shiver,
On the desolated plains ;—
Robin! thou art gay and free,
Happy in thy liberty.

Hunger never shall distress thee,

While my cates one crumb afford;
Colds nor cramps shall e'er oppress thee;
Come and share my humble board.
Robin! come and live with me,
Live—yet still at liberty.

Soon shall Spring, in smiles and blushes,

Steal upon the blooming year;
Then, amid the enamour'd bushes,
Thy sweet song shall warble clear;
Then shall I too, join'd with thee,
Swell the hymn of liberty.

MOONLIGHT.

Gentle Moon ! a captive calls:
Gentle Moon! awake, arise;

Gild the prison's sullen walls;
Gild the tears that drown his eyes.

Throw thy veil of clouds aside;

Let those smiles, that light the pole,
Through the liquid aether glide,—

Glide into the mourner's soul.

Cheer his melancholy mind;

Soothe his sorrows, heal his smart:
Let thine influence, pure, refined,

Cool the fever of his heart.

Chase despondency and care,

Fiends that haunt the guilty breast.
Conscious virtue braves despair—

Triumphs most when most oppress'd.

Now I feel thy power benign
Swell my bosom, thrill my veins;

As thy beams the brightest shine
When the deepest midnight reigns.

Say, fair shepherdess of night!

Who thy starry flock dost lead
Unto rills of living light,

On the blue ethereal mead;

At this moment, dost thou see,
From thine elevated sphere,
One kind friend who thinks of me,—
Thinks, and drops a feeling tear?

On a brilliant beam convey
This soft whisper to his breast:

"Wipe that generous drop away;
He for whom it falls is blest:

"Blest with freedom, unconfmed,
Dungeons cannot hold the soul:

Who can chain the immortal mind !—
None but He, who spans the pole."

Fancy, too, the nimble fairy,
With her subtle magic spell,

In romantic visions airy
Steals the captive from his cell.

On her moonlight pinions borne,
Far he flies from grief and pain;

Never, never to be torn
From his friends and home again.

Stay, thou dear delusion! stay;

Beauteous bubble! do not break. Ih! the pageant flits away:

Who from such a dream would wake?

His grief in soothing slumbers

No balmy power could steep;
So sweetly flWd his numbers,

The music seem'd to weep
Unfeeling sons of folly,

To you the mourner sung;
While tender melancholy

Inspired his plaintive tongue:

'Now reigns the Moon in splendour

Amid the heaven serene;
A thousand stars attend her,

And glitter round their queen:
Sweet hours of inspiration!

When I, the still night long,
Was wont to pour my passion,

And breathe my soul in song.

"But now, delicious season!

In vain thy charms invite:
Entomb'd in this dire prison,

I sicken at the sight.
This morn, this vernal morning,

The happiest bird was I,
That hail'd the sun returning,

Or swam the liquid sky.

"In yonder breezy bowel's,

Among the foliage green,
I spent my tuneful hours,

In solitude serene:
There soft Melodia's beauty

First fired my ravish'd eye;
I vowed eternal duty;

She look'd—half kind, half shy!

"My plumes with ardour trembling,
I flutter^, sigh'd and sung;

The fair one, still dissembling,
Refused to trust my tongue;

A thousand tricks inventing,

A thousand arts I tried:
Till the sweet nymph, relenting,

Confess'd herself my bride.

"Deep in the grove retiring

To choose our secret seat, We found an oak aspiring,

Beneath whose mossy feet, Where the tall herbage swelling

Had formed a sweet' alcove, We built our humble dwelling,

And hallow'd it with love.

"Sweet scene of vanish'd pleasure .

This day, this fatal day, My little ones, my treasure,

My spouse, were stolen away!
I saw the precious plunder

All in a napkin bound:
Then, smit with human thunder,

I flutter'd on the ground!

"O Man! beneath whose vengeance

All Nature bleeding lies!
Who charged thine impious engines

With lightning from the skies;
Ah! is thy bosom iron'/

Does it thine heart enchain, As these cold bars environ,

And, captive, me detain?

"Where are my offspring tender1

Where is my widcVd mate 1— Thou guardian Moon! defend her!

Ye Stars! avert their fate!—
O'erwhelm'd with killing anguish,

In iron cage, forlorn,
I see my poor babes languish,

I bear their mother mourn!