Love Songs, &c, SONG

The parent bird, whose little nest, Is by her tender young possest, With fluttering wings and downy breast, She shelters them with love: But soon as nature plumes their wings, They take their flight to groves and springs; Quite unconcerned, the parent sings, Regardless where they rove.

Unhappy we, of human race, The lasting cares of life embrace, And our best affections place On what procures us pain: For children, as their years increase, Increase our cares, and spoil our peace; Paternal love will never cease, But ever must remain.