Conversations introducing poetry :: :: University of Virginia Library

Oh! Lady-bird, Lady-bird, why dost thou roam
So far from thy comrades, so distant from home?
Why dost thou, who can revel all day in the air,
Who the sweets of the grove and the garden can share,
In the fold of a leaf, who can form thee a bower,
And a palace enjoy in the tube of a flower;
Ah, why, simple Lady-bird, why dost thou venture,
The dwellings of man so familiar to enter?
Too soon you may find, that your trust is misplac'd,
When by some cruel child you are wantonly chas'd,
And your bright scarlet coat, so bespotted with black,
May be torn by his barbarous hands from your back.
And your smooth jetty corselet be pierced with a pin,
That the urchin may see you in agonies spin;
For his bosom is shut against pity's appeals,
He has never been taught that a Lady-bird feels.
Ah, then you'll regret you were tempted to rove,
From the tall climbing hop, or the hazle's thick grove,
And will fondly remember each arbour and tree,
Where lately you wander'd contented and free;
Then fly, simple Lady-bird!—fly away home,
No more from your nest, and your children to roam.