ON
THE
ST
BERNARD'S
CANARY
BIRDS
Sweet
is
the
subject
of
my
verse
,
Then
let
the
softest
notes
rehearse
The
simple
tale
of
woe
;
Two
pretty
birds
,
by
love
endear'd
,
Elate
on
airy
pinions
rear'd
,
In
mutual
flight
did
go
To
yonder
grove
,
where
neither
strife
,
Nor
jarring
scenes
of
busy
life
,
Could
hurt
the
little
pair
;
They
knew
the
master
good
and
kind
,
Of
tender
heart
,
and
equal
mind
,
And
thought
to
settle
there
.
In
sweetest
notes
his
praise
they
sung
,
In
yonder
yew
bush
hatch'd
their
young
,
Yet
shyly
shun'd
his
care
;
Around
the
season
seem'd
to
smile
,
They
knew
not
nature
could
beguile
,
So
flew
in
open
air
.
Their
infant
brood
had
caught
the
wing
,
Their
little
throats
were
tun'd
to
sing
,
When
lo
!
the
killing
frost
Did
on
each
tender
blossom
seize
;
Chill
,
helpless
'mong
the
hoary
trees
,
They
fell
,
for
ever
lost
.
Yet
shall
some
pretty
babe
relate
Their
timeless
end
,
but
happy
fate
,
Too
apt
to
find
an
urn
;
And
other
songsters
,
as
they
fly
,
Shall
view
them
with
a
plaintive
eye
,
But
envy
while
they
mourn
.