THE OAK AND THE BROOM.

A PASTORAL.

His fimple truths did Andrew glean

Befide the babbling rills;

A careful ftudent he had been

Among the woods and hills.

One Winter's night, when through the trees
The wind was thundering, on his knees
His youngest born did Andrew hold:
And while the reft, a ruddy quire,
Were feated round their blazing fire,

This tale the fhepherd told :

"I saw a crag, a lofty stone

As ever tempeft beat!

:

Out of its head an Oak had grown,

A Broom out of its feet.

The time was March, a cheerful noon

The thaw-wind, with the breath of June,

Breathed gently from the warm south-west :

When, in a voice fedate with age,

This Oak, a giant and a fage,

His neighbour thus addreffed :

"Eight weary weeks through rock and clay, Along this mountain's edge,

The froft hath wrought both night and day, Wedge driving after wedge.

Look up and think, above your head !

What trouble, surely, will be bred;

Laft night I heard a crash-'tis true,
The splinters took another road
I see them yonder—what a load
For fuch a thing as you!

"You are preparing, as before, To deck your flender shape;

And

yet, juft three years back-n no moreYou had a strange escape.

Down from yon cliff a fragment broke ;
It came, you know, with fire and smoke,
And hitherward it bent its way:
This ponderous block was caught by me,
And o'er your head, as you may fee,
'Tis hanging to this day!

"The thing had better been asleep,
Whatever thing it were,

Or breeze, or bird, or dog, or sheep,
That firft did plant you there.

For

you and your green twigs decoy The little witless fhepherd-boy

To come and flumber in your bower; And, truft me, on fome fultry noon,

Both you and he, Heaven knows how foon! Will perish in one hour.

"From me this friendly warning take’—

The Broom began to doze,

And thus, to keep herself awake,

Did gently interpose :

'My thanks for your discourse are due ; That it is true, and more than true,

I know, and I have known it long; Frail is the bond by which we hold Our being, be we young or old,

Wife, foolish, weak, or strong.

"Difafters, do the best we can,

Will reach both great and small; And he is oft the wisest man,

Who is not wife at all.

For me, why should I wish to roam ?
This fpot is my paternal home,

It is my pleasant heritage;
My father, many a happy year,

Here fpread his careless bloffoms, here

Attained a good old age.

"Even fuch as his may be my

lot :

What cause have I to haunt
My heart with terrors? Am I not
In truth a favoured plant!

On me fuch bounty Summer pours,
That I am covered o'er with flowers;
And, when the froft is in the sky,
My branches are so fresh and gay,
That you might look at me and say,
This plant can never die.

"The butterfly, all green and gold,
To me hath often flown,
Here in my blossoms to behold
Wings lovely as his own.
When grafs is chill with rain or dew,
Beneath my fhade the mother-ewe
Lies with her infant lamb; I fee

The love they to each other make,

And the sweet joy which they partake,

It is a joy to me.'

"Her voice was blithe, her heart was light;

The Broom might have pursued

Her fpeech, until the stars of night
Their journey had renewed:
But in the branches of the Oak

Two ravens now began to croak

Their nuptial fong, a gladsome air : And to her own green bower the breeze That inftant brought two ftripling bees To reft and murmur there.

"One night, my children! from the North
There came a furious blast;
At break of day I ventured forth,
And near the cliff I passed.

The ftorm had fallen upon the Oak

And ftruck him with a mighty stroke,

And whirled, and whirled him far away;

And in one hofpitable cleft

The little carelefs Broom was left

To live for many a day.”