169 
ADVICE TO A YOUNG BLACKBIRD. 
H, there you are, let out alone at last. 
I’ve watched your goings on for some days past ; 
Though you may try to hide your youth with cheek, 
I know your age : you left the nest last week. 
Come here and let me give you some advice. 
It shall be useful, kindly and concise ; 
For your new life has jars as well as joys. 
And there are cats and catapults and boys. 
When on the lawn be vigilant and firm. 
And deftly learn to land the unwilling worm ; 
When times are hard and every lawn is dry, 
Give up the usual worm and try the fly. 
Feast through the summer ; but, when autumn comes. 
Abstemious be (but chiefly with my plums). 
Thank man in winter for his crumbs and grain. 
And in the summer praise the Lord for rain. 
In nesting time don’t build too near the sod. 
Choose a thick holly, and then trust in God. 
Get a good mate, with kindly heart, and tail 
Managed with grace, not flaunted like a flail. 
When you fall out — as will do hens and hubs. 
Don’t make it known by scolding through the shrubs. 
And now about your singing, just a word ; 
Practise for skill, not merely to be heard ; 
You ought to have a voice of some repute. 
Your father’s voice, you know, is like a flute; 
Keep your song low, and warble from the chest, 
A mellow, rich contralto suits you best. 
Whate’er you do, don’t trifle with the air. 
But work it out with conscientious care ; 
“ Give yourself airs,” but don’t go on the street. 
Or your best passages too oft repeat ; 
At early morn, a cheerful voice maintain. 
But in the evening sing your tend’rest strain. 
Work hard, be true, and for perfection search. 
Then in your art you’ll take the highest perch. 
Think over what I’ve said ; remember that 
Where’er you are — look out ! here comes the cat ! 
Elliot Stock. 
