LINES Occasioned by my putting a Bee out of my Window one cold Morning in February, at the request of a Child.

LINES Occasioned by my putting a Bee out of my Window one cold Morning in February, at the request of a Child. Eliza Day Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford

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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive

Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/

Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T132359 Daye, Eliza, b. ca. 1734. Poems, on Various Subjects. Liverpool Printed by J. M'Creery 1798 pp. [178]-179. [2],x,[4],258p.; 8°

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LINES Occasioned by my putting a Bee out of my Window one cold Morning in February , at the request of a Child . AH beauteous stranger ! here too soon , For pity came too late ; Granted to fear a coward boon , And thee resign'd to fate . The deed which stopp'd thy honied breath , Convey'd a sting to me ; Grieving the fatal gift was death , Which I meant liberty . Nature thy golden plumage drest , And tun'd thy simple note ; But yet a niggard of her feast , My erring hand forgot . No vernal robe , or summer sweet , Blossoms or plant display ; A herald of the spring to greet , Nor sunbeam cheer'd thy way . Black Eurus chill'd thy infant wing , Dread wastes affright thine eye ; Opening the vocal choir of spring , Stern winter bid thee die . Ah ! what avails a bounteous store , Or what a heart to give ; When the important minute's o'er , That sufferers might receive ?