[*] While o’er her callow brood she hung,
She fondly thus address’d her young:
‘Ye tender objects of my care,
Peace! peace! ye little helpless pair.
Anon! he comes, your gentle sire,
And brings you all your hearts require;
For us, his infants and his bride,
For us, with only love to guide,
Our lord assumes an eagle’s speed,
And, like a lion, dares to bleed:
Nor yet by wintry skies confin’d,
He mounts upon the rudest wind,
From danger tears the vital spoil,
And with affection sweetens toil.
Ah! cease, too vent’rous, cease to dare;
In thine, our dearer safety spare.
From him, ye cruel falcons stray;
And turn, ye fowlers, far away,
—All-giving Pow’r, great source of life,
Oh! hear the parent, hear the wife:
That life thou lendest from above,
Though little, make it large in love.
Oh! bid my feeling heart expand
To ev’ry claim on ev’ry hand,
To those, from whom my days I drew,
To these in whom those days renew,
To all my kin, however wide,
In cordial warmth as blood allied.
To friends in steely fetters twin’d
And to the cruel not unkind;
But chief the lord of my desire,
My life, myself, my soul, my sire,
Friends, children, all that wish can claim,
Chaste passion clasp, and rapture name.
Oh! spare him, spare him, gracious Pow’r:
Oh! give him to my latest hour,
Let me my length of life employ,
To give my sole enjoyment joy.
His love let mutual love excite;
Turn all my cares to his delight,
And ev’ry needless blessing spare,
Wherein my darling wants a share.
—Let one unruffled calm delight
The loving and belov’d unite;
One pure desire our bosoms warm;
One will direct, one wish inform;
Through life one mutual aid sustain;
In death one peaceful grave contain.’
While, swelling with the darling theme,
Her accents pour’d an endless stream.
The well-known wings a sound impart
That reach’d her ear, and touch’d her heart.
Quick dropp’d the music of her tongue,
And forth, with eager joy, she sprung.
As swift her ent’ring consort flew,
And plum’d, and kindled at the view.
Their wings, their souls, embracing, meet,
Their hearts with answ’ring measure beat,
Half lost in sacred sweets, and bless’d
With raptures felt, but ne’er express’d.
Strait to her humble roof she led
The partner of her spotless bed;
Her young, a flutt’ring pair, arise,
Their welcome sparkling in their eyes,
Transported, to their sire they bound,
And hang, with speechless action, round.
In pleasure wrapt, the parents stand,
And see their little wings expand;
The sire his life sustaining prize
To each expecting bill applies;
There fondly pours the wheaten spoil,
With transport giv’n, though won with toil;
While, all collected at the sight,
And silent through supreme delight,
The fair high heav’n of bliss beguiles,
And on her lord and infants smiles.
[*] These verses are a quotation from that tender fable of
the Sparrow and the Dove, in the ‘Fables for the Female
Sex.’
The eagle now, without any hesitation, pronounced the dove to be deservedly the happiest of the feathered kind; and however unwilling the rest of the birds were to assent to the judgment given, yet could they not dispute the justice of the decree.
Here Miss Jenny ceased reading, and all the little company expressed by their looks, that they were overjoyed at the eagle’s determination; for they had all in their own minds forestalled the eagle’s judgment, of giving the preference to the dove. ‘Now, my good children,’ said Mrs. Teachum, ‘if you will pass through this life with real pleasure, imitate the dove; and remember, that innocence of mind, and integrity of heart, adorn the female character, and can alone produce your own happiness, and diffuse it to all around you.’
Our little company thanked their governess for her fable; and, just at that instant, they heard a chariot drive into the court, and Mrs. Teachum went out to see what visitor could be arrived so late in the evening; for it was near eight o’clock.
They all remained in the room where their governess left them; for they had been taught never to run out to the door, or to the windows, to look at any strangers that came, till they knew whether it was proper for them to see them or not.
Mrs. Teachum soon returned with a letter open in her hand, and remained some little time silent; but cast on every one round such a tender and affectionate look, a tear almost starting from her eye, that the sympathising sorrow seemed to spread through the whole company, and they were all silent, and ready to cry, though they knew not for what reason. ‘I am sorry, my little dears,’ said Mrs. Teachum, ‘to give your tender bosoms the uneasiness I fear the contents of this letter will do, as it will deprive you of that your hearts so justly hold most dear.’ And, so saying, she delivered to Miss Jenny Peace, the following letter:—
‘To Miss Jenny Peace.
‘Monday night, June 24.
‘My dear niece,—I arrived safe at my own house, with your cousin Harriet, last Saturday night, after a very tedious voyage by sea, and a fatiguing journey by land. I long to see my dear Jenny as soon as possible, and Harriet is quite impatient for that pleasure.