The
BLACKBIRDS
.
An
Elegy
.
By
the
same
.
THE
sun
had
chas'd
the
mountain
snow
,
And
kindly
loos'd
the
frozen
soil
,
The
melting
streams
began
to
flow
,
And
plowmen
urg'd
their
annual
toil
.
'Twas
then
,
amid
the
vocal
throng
Whom
nature
wakes
to
mirth
and
love
,
A
blackbird
rais'd
his
am'rous
song
,
And
thus
it
echo'd
thro'
the
grove
.
O
fairest
of
the
feather'd
train
!
For
whom
I
sing
,
for
whom
I
burn
,
Attend
with
pity
to
my
strain
,
And
grant
my
love
a
kind
return
.
For
see
the
wintry
storms
are
flown
,
And
gentle
Zephyrs
fan
the
air
;
Let
us
the
genial
influence
own
,
Let
us
the
vernal
pastime
share
.
The
raven
plumes
his
jetty
wing
To
please
his
croaking
paramour
;
The
larks
responsive
ditties
sing
,
And
tell
their
passion
as
they
soar
.
But
trust
me
,
love
,
the
raven's
wing
Is
not
to
be
compar'd
with
mine
;
Nor
can
the
lark
so
sweetly
sing
As
I
,
who
strength
with
sweetness
join
.
O
!
let
me
all
thy
steps
attend
!
I'll
point
new
treasures
to
thy
sight
;
Whether
the
grove
thy
wish
befriend
,
Or
hedge-rows
green
,
or
meadows
bright
.
I'll
shew
my
love
the
clearest
rill
Whose
streams
among
the
pebbles
stray
,
These
will
we
sip
,
and
sip
our
fill
,
Or
on
the
flow'ry
margin
play
.
I'll
lead
her
to
the
thickest
brake
,
Impervious
to
the
school-boy's
eye
;
For
her
the
plaister'd
nest
I'll
make
,
And
on
her
downy
pinions
lie
.
When
prompted
by
a
mother's
care
,
Her
warmth
shall
form
th'
imprisoned
young
;
The
pleasing
task
I'll
gladly
share
,
Or
cheer
her
labours
with
my
song
.
To
bring
her
food
I'll
range
the
fields
,
And
cull
the
best
of
every
kind
;
Whatever
nature's
bounty
yields
,
And
love's
assiduous
care
can
find
.
And
when
my
lovely
mate
would
stray
To
taste
the
summer
sweets
at
large
,
I'll
wait
at
home
the
live-long
day
,
And
tend
with
care
our
little
charge
.
Then
prove
with
me
the
sweets
of
love
,
With
me
divide
the
cares
of
life
;
No
bush
shall
boast
in
all
the
grove
So
fond
a
mate
,
so
blest
a
wife
.
He
ceas'd
his
song
.
The
melting
dame
With
soft
indulgence
heard
the
strain
;
She
felt
,
she
own'd
a
mutual
flame
,
And
hasted
to
relieve
his
pain
.
He
led
her
to
the
nuptial
bower
,
And
nestled
closely
to
her
side
;
The
fondest
bridegroom
of
that
hour
,
And
she
,
the
most
delighted
bride
.
Next
morn
he
wak'd
her
with
a
song
,
"
Behold
,
he
said
,
the
new-born
day
!
"
The
lark
his
matin
peal
has
rung
,
"
Arise
,
my
love
,
and
come
away
.
"
Together
thro'
the
fields
they
stray'd
,
And
to
the
murm'ring
riv'let's
side
;
Renew'd
their
vows
,
and
hopp'd
and
play'd
,
With
honest
joy
,
and
decent
pride
.
When
oh
!
with
grief
the
Muse
relates
The
mournful
sequel
of
my
tale
;
Sent
by
an
order
from
the
fates
A
gunner
met
them
in
the
vale
.
Alarm'd
the
lover
cry'd
,
My
dear
,
Haste
,
haste
away
,
from
danger
fly
;
Here
,
gunner
,
point
thy
thunder
here
;
O
spare
my
love
,
and
let
me
die
.
At
him
the
gunner
took
his
aim
;
His
aim
alas
was
all
too
true
:
O
!
had
he
chose
some
other
game
!
Or
shot
—
as
he
was
wont
to
do
!
Divided
pair
!
forgive
the
wrong
,
While
I
with
tears
your
fate
rehearse
;
I'll
join
the
widow's
plaintive
song
,
And
save
the
lover
in
my
verse
.