The Partridges

Hard by yon copse, that skirts the flowery vale, As late I walk'd to taste the evening breeze, A plaintive murmur mingled in the gale, And notes of sorrow echo'd thro' the trees.

Touch'd by the pensive sound, I nearer drew: But my rude steps encreas'd the cause of pain: Soon o'er my head the whirring partridge flew Alarm'd; and with her flew an infant train.

But short the excursion; for unus'd to fly, Feebly the unfledg'd wings the essay could make; The parent, shelter'd by the closing day, Lodg'd her lov'd covey in a neighb'ring brake.

Her cradling pinions there she amply spread, And hush'd the affrighted family to rest; But still the late alarm suggested dread, As closer to their feathery friend they prest.

She, wretched parent! doom'd to various woe, Felt all a mother's hope, a mother's fear; With grief foresaw the dawn's impending blow, And to avert it, thus prefer'd her prayer:

O thou! who even the sparrow dost befriend, Whose providence protects the harmless wren; Thou god of birds! these innocents defend From the vile sports of unrelenting men.

For soon as dawn shall dapple yonder skies, The slaught'ring gunner, with the tube of fate, While the dire dog the faithless stubble tries, Shall persecute our tribe with annual hate.

O may the sun, unfann'd by cooling gale, Parch with unwonted heat the undewy ground; So shall the pointer's wonted cunning fail, So shall the sportsman leave my babes unfound.

Then may I fearless guide them to the mead, Then may I see with joy their plumage grow, Then may I see (fond thought!) their future breed, And every transport of a parent know.

But if some victim must endure the dart, And sate marks out that victim from my race, Strike, strike the leaden vengeance thro' this heart, Spare, spare my babes, and I the death embrace!