Page:Poems Sherwin.djvu/92

For my warm panting bosom bears
A heart which loftiest pleasure shares;
And, spite of nature too, my mind
Soars far above my groveling kind.
Oh, condescend to be my wife,
And I through every change of life
Will watchful, fond, and faithful be,
Affectionate and kind to thee.
With choicest food thy bower I'll fill,
And lead thee to the clearest rill;
Thy slave through all the live day long,
At night a listener to thy song.
Then say, dear bird, wilt thou be mine,
Break not a heart so truly thine."

 At first the bird, like bashful maid,
Was distant, shy, and seemed afraid.
What more he said—what more he did,
Must in oblivion now be hid;
But ultimately—conquering strife—
The pig and bird were man and wife.

 'Twas well enough while tilings were new.
But Mr. Hog soon careless grew;
Forgetting what fine things he'd said,
With all the promises he'd made.
And as by early habits trained,
In mire and dirt he still remained
The same; and soon, by instinct led,
From every sylvan scene he fled,—
The fields and flowers he left behind,
And herded only with his kind.