190 VIEWS OF NATTTEE. 



All, alas ! are lifeless lying, 



Stretch' d upon their grassy bed; 



Nor can all his mournful crying, 

 E'er awake the slumbering dead. 



Still he calls with voice imploring, 

 To a world that heeds him not ; 



Nought replies but waters roaring- 

 No kind soul bewails his lot. 



Swift the savage turns his rudder, 

 When his eyes the bird behold; 



None e'er saw without a shudder 

 That Aturian Parrot old! 



