72 



TYRANT FLYCATCHER. 



All danger o'ei% he hastens back elate^ 



To guard his post and feed his faithful mate. 



Behold him now, his little family flown, 

 Meek, unassuming, silent and alone ; 

 Lur'd bv the well-known hum of fav'rite bees, 

 As slow he hovers o'er the garden trees ; 

 (For all have failings, passions, whims that lead; 

 Some fav'rite wish, some appetite to feed ;) 

 Strait he alights, and from the pear-tree spies 

 The circling stream of humming insects rise; 

 Selects his prey; darts on the busy brood. 

 And shrilly twitters o'er his sav'ry food. 



Ah! ill-timed triumph! direful note to thee, 

 That guides thy murderer to the fatal tree; 

 See where he skulks! and takes his gloomy stand; 

 The deep-charg'd musquet hanging in his hand; 

 And gaunt for blood, he leans it on a rest. 

 Prepared, and pointed at thy snow-white breast. 

 Ah friend! good friend! forbear that barb'rous deed. 

 Against it valor, goodness, pity plead; 

 If e'er a family's griefs, a widow's woe. 

 Have reach'd thy soul, in mercy let him go ! 

 Yet, should the tear of pity nought avail. 

 Let interest speak, let gratitude prevail ; 

 Kill not thy friend, who thy whole harvest shields, 

 And sweeps ten thousand vermin from thy fields ; 

 Think how this dauntless bird, thy poultry's guard. 

 Drove ev'ry Hawk and Eagle from thy yard; 

 Watch'd round thy cattle as they fed, and slew 

 The hungry black'ning swarms that round them flew; 

 Some small return, some little right resign, 

 And spare his life whose services are thine ! 



