 | Poems, Epigrams and Sonnets |  |
63
THE PARROT.
Uncag'd one day,
A Parrot grey
The neighbouring woods allure;
From prison free,
“I now,” quoth he,
“Will act the Connoisseur.”
A Parrot grey
The neighbouring woods allure;
From prison free,
“I now,” quoth he,
“Will act the Connoisseur.”
He found in wail
Of Nightingale
Deficiency of skill;
The plaintive song
Drawn out too long,
Too tremulous the thrill.
Of Nightingale
Deficiency of skill;
The plaintive song
Drawn out too long,
Too tremulous the thrill.
The Linnet's throat
Had scarce a note
Worth listening to; although,
If early taught
By him, he thought,
She might have sung so-so.
Had scarce a note
Worth listening to; although,
If early taught
By him, he thought,
She might have sung so-so.
No bird that sung
The woods among
True vocalist esteeming;
Still something wrong
In every song,
He silenced them by screaming.
The woods among
True vocalist esteeming;
64
In every song,
He silenced them by screaming.
One day they came,
With ceaseless blame
Provok'd to such excess;
“Good sir,” they say,
“Will you display
The talent you possess?
With ceaseless blame
Provok'd to such excess;
“Good sir,” they say,
“Will you display
The talent you possess?
“Your taste so fine,
No doubt, divine
Your voice; we pray you, clear it;
For doubtless we
Much melody
Might learn, if we could hear it.”
No doubt, divine
Your voice; we pray you, clear it;
For doubtless we
Much melody
Might learn, if we could hear it.”
Abash'd, his head
Poll scratch'd, and said,
“Incomparably good
The judges deem
My Parrot scream,
But sing I never could.”
Poll scratch'd, and said,
“Incomparably good
The judges deem
My Parrot scream,
But sing I never could.”
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