She sat down, and thought of the scene
With humiliation and tears:
The words, and the noise
Of the brutes and the boys
Were echoing still in her ears.
She reasoned, and came at the cause,
Resolving that cause to remove;
And thence, her desire
Was for modest attire,
And her heart and her mind to improve.
And soon, all who knew her before
Remarked on the change and the gain
In mind, and in mien,
And in dress, that were seen
In the once flashy Miss Vivy Vain.
[THE MOCKING BIRD.]
A Mocking Bird was he,
In a bushy, blooming tree,
Imbosomed by the foliage and flower.
And there he sat and sang,
Till all around him rang,
With sounds, from out the merry mimic’s bower.
The little satirist
Piped, chattered, shrieked, and hissed;
He then would moan, and whistle, quack, and caw;
Then, carol, drawl, and croak,
As if he ’d pass a joke
On every other winged one he saw.
Together he would catch
A gay and plaintive snatch,
And mingle notes of half the feathered throng.
For well the mocker knew,
Of every thing that flew,
To imitate the manner and the song.
The other birds drew near,
And paused awhile to hear
How well he gave their voices and their airs.
And some became amused;
While some, disturbed, refused
To own the sounds that others said were theirs.