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45
THE PARROT
My Parrot, an obtrusive bird,
Who whistles shrill, and briskly swears,
Sits all day long, with muttered word,
In his snug cage, beside the stairs.
Who whistles shrill, and briskly swears,
Sits all day long, with muttered word,
In his snug cage, beside the stairs.
But this bright morning, when the breeze
Soft in the garden-corners cried,
Poor Poll, with rising envy, sees
The great, green, glittering world outside.
Soft in the garden-corners cried,
Poor Poll, with rising envy, sees
The great, green, glittering world outside.
The cage was open! 'twould be sweet
To win ancestral liberty!
He crossed the lawn with crafty feet,
And fluttered to a sheltering tree.
To win ancestral liberty!
He crossed the lawn with crafty feet,
And fluttered to a sheltering tree.
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All day, with soft seductive art,
“Poor Poll!” and “Pretty Dear!” we cried;
And only from the tree's dark heart,
A demon's mocking laugh replied.
“Poor Poll!” and “Pretty Dear!” we cried;
And only from the tree's dark heart,
A demon's mocking laugh replied.
But when the grim and haunted night
Fell darkly, veiled with chilly showers,
Poor Poll, with hurried awkward flight,
Relinquished his aerial bowers.
Fell darkly, veiled with chilly showers,
Poor Poll, with hurried awkward flight,
Relinquished his aerial bowers.
Oh then, as some sea-battered craft
Wins gladly to the welcome shore,
Poll smoothed his ruffled plumes, and laugh'd,
And vow'd he would not wander more.
Wins gladly to the welcome shore,
Poll smoothed his ruffled plumes, and laugh'd,
And vow'd he would not wander more.
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