University of Virginia Library


59

ODE XXXIII. To the Swallow.

Here, gentle swallow! social guest!
Duly each year you build your nest,
In which all summer you remain;
But winter come, depart again;
And, fled to warmer climes the while,
Lodge or near Memphis or the Nile.
Sweet bird! how happy shou'd I be,
Would love but come and go like thee!
Who in my heart, a constant guest,
Builds all the year, nor quits his nest,
Some in the shell imprison'd lie,
Some newly-fledg'd begin to fly;
Some half-disclos'd, in doubtful strife,
Press, yet un-finish'd, into life.
My breast with endless noise is torn,
Of craving loves incessant-born.
The full-grown bird with tender food
Careful supplies the callow-brood;
And soon the callow-brood full-grown,
Supplies another of her own.

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A proper rem'dy who can tell?
So many loves within me dwell;
No tongue their number can declare;
No heart, alas, their burthen bear.