In rural enjoyments they pass’d time away,
And car’d for no Poems, nor Poets—not they!
Our Birds of haut-ton set them down for a pair
Of the silliest creatures that flutter’d in air!
But breakfast appearing, a kind invitation
To share it, still met with their full approbation;
So both ate as much as they knew how to carry,
And vow’d they no longer a moment cou’d tarry:
Then hurrying off, without further ado,
Said, “good morning, my friends,” and the Turtles cried, “Coo!”