In Reference to Her Children

1I had eight birds hatched in one nest,

2Four cocks there were, and hens the rest.

3I nursed them up with pain and care,

4Nor cost, nor labour did I spare,

5Till at the last they felt their wing,

6Mounted the trees, and learned to sing;

7Chief of the brood then took his flight

8To regions far and left me quite.

9My mournful chirps I after send,

10Till he return, or I do end:

11Leave not thy nest, thy dam and sire,

12Fly back and sing amidst this choir.

13My second bird did take her flight,

14And with her mate flew out of sight;

15Southward they both their course did bend,

16And seasons twain they there did spend,

17Till after blown by southern gales,

18They norward steered with filled sails.

19A prettier bird was no where seen,

20Along the beach among the treen.

21I have a third of colour white,

22On whom I placed no small delight;

23Coupled with mate loving and true,

24Hath also bid her dam adieu;

25And where Aurora first appears,

26She now hath perched to spend her years.

27One to the academy flew

28To chat among that learned crew;

29Ambition moves still in his breast

30That he might chant above the rest

31Striving for more than to do well,

32That nightingales he might excel.

33My fifth, whose down is yet scarce gone,

34Is 'mongst the shrubs and bushes flown,

35And as his wings increase in strength,

36On higher boughs he'll perch at length.

37My other three still with me nest,

38Until they're grown, then as the rest,

39Or here or there they'll take their flight,

40As is ordained, so shall they light.

41If birds could weep, then would my tears

42Let others know what are my fears

43Lest this my brood some harm should catch,

44And be surprised for want of watch,

45Whilst pecking corn and void of care,

46They fall un'wares in fowler's snare,

47Or whilst on trees they sit and sing,

48Some untoward boy at them do fling,

49Or whilst allured with bell and glass,

50The net be spread, and caught, alas.

51Or lest by lime-twigs they be foiled,

52Or by some greedy hawks be spoiled.

53O would my young, ye saw my breast,

54And knew what thoughts there sadly rest,

55Great was my pain when I you fed,

56Long did I keep you soft and warm,

57And with my wings kept off all harm,

58My cares are more and fears than ever,

59My throbs such now as 'fore were never.

60Alas, my birds, you wisdom want,

61Of perils you are ignorant;

62Oft times in grass, on trees, in flight,

63Sore accidents on you may light.

64O to your safety have an eye,

65So happy may you live and die.

66Meanwhile my days in tunes I'll spend,

67Till my weak lays with me shall end.

68In shady woods I'll sit and sing,

69And things that past to mind I'll bring.

70Once young and pleasant, as are you,

71But former toys (no joys) adieu.

72My age I will not once lament,

73But sing, my time so near is spent.

74And from the top bough take my flight

75Into a country beyond sight,

76Where old ones instantly grow young,

77And there with seraphims set song;

78No seasons cold, nor storms they see;

79But spring lasts to eternity.

80When each of you shall in your nest

81Among your young ones take your rest,

82In chirping language, oft them tell,

83You had a dam that loved you well,

84That did what could be done for young,

85And nursed you up till you were strong,

86And 'fore she once would let you fly,

87She showed you joy and misery;

88Taught what was good, and what was ill,

89What would save life, and what would kill.

90Thus gone, amongst you I may live,

91And dead, yet speak, and counsel give:

92Farewell, my birds, farewell adieu,

93I happy am, if well with you.