THE PARROT.

The deep affections of the breast,That Heaven to living things impartsAre not exclusively possess’dBy human hearts.A parrot, from the Spanish Main,Full young, and early-caged came o’er,With bright wings, to the bleak domain.Of Mulla’s shore.To spicy groves where he had wonHis plumage of resplendent hue—His native fruits, and skies, and sun—He bade adieu.For these he changed the smoke of turf,A heathery land and misty sky;And turn’d on rocks and raging surfHis golden eye.But, petted, in our climate cold,He lived and chatter’d many a day;Until, with age, from green and goldHis wings grew gray.At last, when blind and seeming dumb,He scolded, laugh’d, and spoke no more,A Spanish stranger chanced to comeTo Mulla’s shore.He hail’d the bird in Spanish speech,The bird in Spanish speech replied;Flapt round his cage with joyous screech,Dropt down and died.

The deep affections of the breast,That Heaven to living things impartsAre not exclusively possess’dBy human hearts.A parrot, from the Spanish Main,Full young, and early-caged came o’er,With bright wings, to the bleak domain.Of Mulla’s shore.To spicy groves where he had wonHis plumage of resplendent hue—His native fruits, and skies, and sun—He bade adieu.For these he changed the smoke of turf,A heathery land and misty sky;And turn’d on rocks and raging surfHis golden eye.But, petted, in our climate cold,He lived and chatter’d many a day;Until, with age, from green and goldHis wings grew gray.At last, when blind and seeming dumb,He scolded, laugh’d, and spoke no more,A Spanish stranger chanced to comeTo Mulla’s shore.He hail’d the bird in Spanish speech,The bird in Spanish speech replied;Flapt round his cage with joyous screech,Dropt down and died.

The deep affections of the breast,That Heaven to living things impartsAre not exclusively possess’dBy human hearts.

The deep affections of the breast,

That Heaven to living things imparts

Are not exclusively possess’d

By human hearts.

A parrot, from the Spanish Main,Full young, and early-caged came o’er,With bright wings, to the bleak domain.Of Mulla’s shore.

A parrot, from the Spanish Main,

Full young, and early-caged came o’er,

With bright wings, to the bleak domain.

Of Mulla’s shore.

To spicy groves where he had wonHis plumage of resplendent hue—His native fruits, and skies, and sun—He bade adieu.

To spicy groves where he had won

His plumage of resplendent hue—

His native fruits, and skies, and sun—

He bade adieu.

For these he changed the smoke of turf,A heathery land and misty sky;And turn’d on rocks and raging surfHis golden eye.

For these he changed the smoke of turf,

A heathery land and misty sky;

And turn’d on rocks and raging surf

His golden eye.

But, petted, in our climate cold,He lived and chatter’d many a day;Until, with age, from green and goldHis wings grew gray.

But, petted, in our climate cold,

He lived and chatter’d many a day;

Until, with age, from green and gold

His wings grew gray.

At last, when blind and seeming dumb,He scolded, laugh’d, and spoke no more,A Spanish stranger chanced to comeTo Mulla’s shore.

At last, when blind and seeming dumb,

He scolded, laugh’d, and spoke no more,

A Spanish stranger chanced to come

To Mulla’s shore.

He hail’d the bird in Spanish speech,The bird in Spanish speech replied;Flapt round his cage with joyous screech,Dropt down and died.

He hail’d the bird in Spanish speech,

The bird in Spanish speech replied;

Flapt round his cage with joyous screech,

Dropt down and died.


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