Nay, no mischance, the savage dame replied, } But want of wit in their unerring guide, } And eager haste, and gaudy hopes, and giddy pride.} Yet, wishing timely warning may prevail, Make you the moral, and I'll tell the tale. The Swallow, privileged above the rest Of all the birds, as man's familiar guest, Pursues the sun, in summer brisk and bold, But wisely shuns the persecuting cold; Is well to chancels and to chimnies known, Though 'tis not thought she feeds on smoke alone. From hence she has been held of heavenly line, Endued with particles of soul divine. This merry chorister had long possessed Her summer-seat, and feathered well her nest; Till frowning skies began to change their cheer, And time turned up the wrong side of the year; The shading trees began the ground to strow With yellow leaves, and bitter blasts to blow. Sad auguries of winter thence she drew, Which by instinct, or prophecy, she knew; When prudence warned her to remove betimes, And seek a better heaven, and warmer climes. Her sons were summoned on a steeple's height, And, called in common council, vote a flight. The day was named, the next that should be fair; } All to the general rendezvous repair, } They try their fluttering wings, and trust themselves in air.} But whether upward to the moon they go, } Or dream the winter out in caves below, } Or hawk at flies elsewhere, concerns us not to know.} Southwards you may be sure they bent their flight,} And harboured in a hollow rock at night; } Next morn they rose, and set up every sail; The wind was fair, but blew a mackrel gale; The sickly young sat shivering on the shore, Abhorred salt-water never seen before. And prayed their tender mothers to delay The passage, and expect a fairer day. With these the Martin readily concurred, A church bigot, and church-believing bird; Of little body, but of lofty mind, } Round bellied, for a dignity designed, } And much a dunce, as Martins are by kind;} Yet often quoted canon-laws, and code, } And fathers which he never understood; } But little learning needs in noble blood.} For, sooth to say, the Swallow brought him in, Her household chaplain, and her next of kin; In superstition silly to excess, And casting schemes by planetary guess; In fine, short-winged, unfit himself to fly, His fear foretold foul weather in the sky. Besides, a Raven from a withered oak,[209] Left of their lodging, was observed to croak. That omen liked him not; so his advice } Was present safety, bought at any price; } A seeming pious care, that covered cowardice.} To strengthen this, he told a boding dream, Of rising waters, and a troubled stream,