MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. OR THE TWO SPARROWS.

A FABLE. From Mons. DE LA MOTTE, Book iv. Fable 21.

A Grove there was, by nature made,
Of trees that form'd a pleasing shade;
Where warbled, ever free from care,
The wing'd musicians of the air.
Here tun'd the Nightingale her throat;
The Thrush there thrill'd her piercing note;
The Finch, Lark, Linnet, all agree
To join the sylvan harmony.

Two amorous Sparrows chose this place;
The softest of the feather'd race:
The MARS and VENUS of the grove;
Less fam'd for singing than for love.
The songsters warbled sweet; while they
As sweetly bill'd their time away.
So closely seated were the two,
Together you wou'd think they grew:
The twig was tender where they sate,
And bent beneath their little weight;
But scarcely in their lives was known
To bear the one, when one was flown.
When hunger call'd, they left the wood,
Together sought the field for food;
When thirsty, in the shallow rills
Together dip'd their little bills.
When PHOEBUS sitting in the west,
And thick'ning shades invite to rest,
They homeward bent their mutual flight:
Thus pass'd their day, thus pass'd their night.
The castle, where these lovers lay;
Was in a hollow oak, they say:
There, side by side, all night they kept;
Together walk'd, together slept:
And mixing amorous disport,
They made their winter-evening short.
Tho' free, 'twas left to other's mind,
To chuse a mate from all their kind,
She only lov'd the loving he;
He only lov'd the lovely she.

Pure JOY, poor mortals seldom find;
Her footman, SORROW, waits behind:
And FATE impartial deals to all
The honey'd potion mix'd with gall.
This pair, on an unhappy day,
Too far together chanc'd to stray;
Benighted, and with snares beset,
Our MARS and VENUS in a net,
Alas! were caught. — O change of state!
A little cage is now their fate.
No more they seek the spacious grove:
No more they burn with mutual love:
Their passion changes with their life;
And soon they fall from love to strife.
Their little souls with growing rage
High swell; they flutter round the cage:
Forget the slender twig, where late
Close side by side in love they sate;
One perch is now too small to hold
The fiery mate and chirping scold:
They peck each other o'er their food;
And thirst to drink each other's blood.
Two cages must the pair divide;
Or death the quarrel will decide.

A picture this of human life!
The modern husband, and the wife.
Who e'er in courtship saw a pair,
So kind as he, as she so fair?
The kisses that they gave each other,
You'd think had seal'd their lips together;
Each vows to each a mutual flame;
And dreams, 'twill always last the same;
But fix them once in HYMEN'S chains,
And each alternately complains.
The honey-moon is scarce declin'd,
But all the honey of their mind
Is gone; and leaves the sting behind.
The scene of love is vanish'd quite:
They pout, grow peevish, scold, and fight.
Two tables feed each parted guest;
Two beds receive the pair to rest:
And law alone can end the strife,
With separate-maintenance for life.