(On being deprived of her nest by some Sparrows.)
A Swallow one evening was sweeping along,
'Mongst such as against her were spiteful,
An impudent Sparrow requested a song,
Affirming her voice was delightful!
The innocent Swallow consented,
But afterwards sadly repented;
For the nest she had been at such pains to erect,
She was soon from enjoying prevented!
To the ridge of the barn they hurried along,
As fast as their feathers could speed them,
Where she tweedled and sung, in her African tongue,
Her favourite anthem on Freedom!
While she was this Sparrow amusing,
The rest were her labours abusing;—
They had taken possession both of garret and floor,
And were in her best chamber carousing!
When the Sparrow beheld by the flood in her eye,
How much this bad treatment did grieve her,
With contempt in his manner he bade her good by
Nor pitied, nor tried to relieve her!
Still her sweet little song did not alter,
Her delicate voice did not falter;
But she tweedled and sung what was next to be done,
As though she alone was the faulter!
Reproving the Sparrows she then seem'd to say,
"To you we are surely no strangers;
To pay you this visit, in crossing the sea,—
We encounter a great many dangers.
O Sparrows! why have you betray'd us?
'Tis cruelty thus to invade us!
We bring summer with us, take nothing away,
O Sparrows! why have you betray'd us?"