160 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. LINES, COMPOSED DURING AN EARLY MORNING WALK. �THou need'st not fly, poor, timid; cautious hare, Whom, sporting in my morning path, I see; No murderous engine in my hands I bear, Thy cry of death would be no mirth to me, For, of the Muses' gentle train am I, Who love all nature's tribes; thou, therefore, need'st not ay. I only come to view the charms of Morn, And breathe the freshness of her quiet h. our, And hear the birds' wild, rapturousmusic, borne On the cool breeze from brake, and woodhod bower, Withoui a thought of violence, or strife, But,least of all .to thee, who giv'st the landscape life. Nor thou, s.weet blackbird, who, on yonder spray, Art carolling thy strain, so blythely loud, Suspend, army approach, the joyous lay, Nor haste in deeper groves thyself to shroud: ......... ?Google
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