Xxv

"The staff I well remember which upbore The bending body of my active sire; His seat beneath the honied sycamore Where the bees hummed, and chair by winter fire; When market-morning came, the neat attire With which, though bent on haste, myself I decked; Our watchful house-dog, that would tease and tire The stranger till its barking-fit I checked; The red-breast, known for years, which at my casement pecked.