Then come, pretty Doves! O, return for our sakes,
And don't keep away from us thus;
Or, when your old slumbering master awakes,
'Twill be a sad moment for us!
"We can't!" said the birds, "and the basket may stand
A long time in waiting; for now
You find out too late, that a bird in the hand
Is worth, at least, two on the bough.
"And we, from our height, looking down on you there,
By experience taught to be sage,--
Find, one pair of wings that are free in the air
Are worth two or three in the cage!
"But when our old master awakes, and shall find
The work you have just been about,
We hope, by the freedom we love, he'll be kind,
And spare you for letting us out.
"We thank you for all the fine stories you tell,
And all the good things you would give;
But think, since we're out, we shall do very well
Where nature designed us to live.
"Whene'er you may think of the swift little wings
On which from your reach we have flown,
No doubt, you'll beware, and not meddle with things,
In future, that are not your own."
=Edward and Charles=.
The brothers went out with the father to ride,
Where they looked for the flowers, that, along the way-side,
So lately were blooming and fair;
But their delicate heads by the frost had been nipped;
Their stalks by the blast were all twisted and stripped;
And nothing but ruin was there.
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