Hester Lynch Salusbury

1

Gentle Bird a Moment stay

Nor so soon amid the Throng

Of feather’d Folk the Woods among,

Sweetly sing or wildly stray;

Gentle Bird a Moment stay—

Harmoniously a while to chear

The Sorrows of the drooping Year,

Hoary Winter to beguile,

And stretch his frost-fix’d Features to a Smile;

Gentle Robin stay a while!

With thy sweet thy artless Lay,

Still hail the slowly-rising Day;

And if Ceres’ Gifts can charm,

Or Gratitude thy Bosom warm,

Still to claim thy wonted Meed,

At my Window still to feed,

Still within my Sight to play

Gentle Bird a Moment stay:

2

While the Lark’s loud Note

Tears her trembling Throat

Ambitious of Renown;

While the Bullfinch borrows

His Artificial Sorrows

No Joy, no Grief his own:

While Philomel alone

To the swiftly-gliding Moon

Tells her Silence-soothing Tale:

Do thou to ev’ry conscious Gale

That breathes on Streatham’s verdant Vale,

Of Nuptial Bliss record the Sweets,

And sing of Streatham’s calm Retreats;

Her long drawn Walk, her piny Grove,

Where Happiness has deign’d to rove,

Where Love and Peace, & Friendship join,

A Wreath for Hymen’s Brows to twine;

Where You like me have most Delight to prove

The Joys of rural Life—and sweet connubial Love.

3

Friend to Meekness, Foe to Strife!

Model of Domestick Life!

Let our flutt’ring Friends whose Fires

Wanton Spring alone inspires

Die at December’s Touch so rude,

And sink at thoughts of Solitude;

While with calm Content our Guest

Winter to us no Fears can bring;

To him whose Mind with peace is blest,

Each Month is May, each Season—Spring.

Though faintly glimm’ring on the Sight

The Snows in ill-form’d Hillocks rise;

He whose pure Conscience is as white

Secure external Frost defies.

Sweet Warbler then, still charm these Plains,

Nor envy Philomela’s Strains

While Thyrsis first of Shepherd Swains

Thy genuine Song approves:

Encourag’d by his partial Praise,

My weaker Voice I strive to raise,

And tune for him my Sylvan Lays

Through Streatham’s vocal Groves.