Gazette Of The United States And Daily Evening Advertiser

On a Robin Red Breast.

A Robin had taken up its abode in the Cathedral of Bristol and for the space of 15 years, usually perched on one of the pinnacles of the great organ during the time of Divine service, accompanying the solemnity with its harmonious strains, and so tame as to follow the verger to be fed. It continued its habitation till last winter, when it died. -- The following beautiful lines are the production of Mr. Samuel Love, minor Canon of the Cathedral:

Sweet, social, bird! whose oft harmonious lays;
Swell the glad song of thy Creator's praise,
Say, art thou conscious of approaching ills?
Fell winter's storms, the pointed blast that kills?
Shun thou the savage North's unpitying breath?
Or cruel Man's more latent snares of death?
Here, gentle bird, a sure asylum find,
Nor dread the chilling frost, nor boisterous wind.
No hostile tyrant of the feather'd race,
Shall dare invade thee in this hallow'd place;
Nor, while he sails the liquid air along,
Check the shrill numbers of thy cheerful song.
No cautious gunner, whose unerring sight
Stops the swift eagle in his rapid flight.
Shall here disturb my lovely songster's rest,
Nor wound the plumage of his crimson breast.
The truant school boy, who in wanton play,
With viscous lime involves the treach'rous spray,
In vain shall spread the wily snare for thee,
A like secure thy life and liberty.
Peace then, sweet warbler, to thy fluttering heart,
Defy the rage of hawks and toils of art;
Now shake thy downy plumes, now gladlier pay
Thy grateful tribute to each rising day;
While crowds below, their willing voices raise.
To sing with holy zeal Jehovah's praise.
Thou, perch'd on high, Shalt hear th' adoring throng,
Catch the warm strains, and aid the sacred song;
Join in the solemn chorus, and inspire
Each tongue with music, and each heart with fire.