"Hail! pleasing harbingers of spring, Who in the ponds so jocund sing; And with a merry roundelay Do usher in St. Patrick's day; Some think your music rather hoarse, Nay that 'tis altogether coarse; Others ever fond of joking, Swear your singing is but croaking. Yet I declare it is to me A pleasing, perfect harmony. For in your varying notes I trace The counter, treble, tenor, bass. Should _some_ reply too _base_ indeed, Such rude sarcasms pray don't heed, But in your old accustomed way Still celebrate St. Patrick's day; Whether to hail the saint you sing Or joy for the returning spring, Which doth your tribe from jail release, Let not your annual tribute cease." Although the merit of this poem lies much below mediocrity, in subject it is delightfully grotesque. Her style was varied and her pen strangely moody, judging from her productions extant. The following _jeu d'esprit_ was written at the beginning of Jefferson's administration: "AN EPIGRAM. "Says William to Thomas I'll hold you a bet, That the French are confoundedly frighted; They thought that our Federal ships had o'erset, But they find that they staunch are, and righted. "They slighted our Pleno's and made a demand That we a shameful tribute should pay them, Or else (as they plundered at sea) on the land Neither Rapine nor Murder should stay them! "But those who are born in the woods can't be scared By the croaking of Bull-frogs in ditches. Nor will we of Frenchmen at all be afraid, A people who're _sans_ honor, _sans_ breeches. "They've taken our coats from our backs, and say too That they will have our shirts and our smocks, sir; But faith if they try it the project they'll rue, For we'll give them some flesh-burning knocks, sir! "They've tried every art which deception could frame, But our Congress too wise were to heed them, They've Heaven defied, and have put aside shame, And have gone all lengths the Devil would lead them." Among her poems are some pleasing verses, entitled "A Whim." These also appeared in _The Time Piece_, unsigned, and we have nothing to show whether they were a copy or the child of her own muse: "I gave--'twas but the other day-- My Kate a ticket for the play, 'Tis love such tricks imparts; When holding up the card to me, She laughed and said, the emblem see, And show'd the Knave of Hearts. "Amaz'd I cry'd, what means my dear? A knave will lie, will steal, will swear; I pray, your words define. She smiled and said, nay never start. He's sure a knave that steals a heart, And you have stolen mine!"