THE SPARROW AND DIAMOND; A SONG by MATTHEW GREEN

I lately saw, what now I sing,
Fair Lucia's hand displayed;
This finger graced a diamond ring,
On that a sparrow played.
The feathered plaything she caressed,
She stroked its head and wings;
And while it nestled on her breast,
She lisped the dearest things.
With chiselled bill a spark ill set
He loosened from the rest,
And swallowed down to grind his meat,
The easier to digest.
She seized his bill with wild affright,
Her diamond to descry:
'Twas gone! she sickened at the sight,
Moaning her bird would die.
The tongue-tied knocker none might use,
The curtains none undraw,
The footmen went without their shoes,
The street was laid with straw.
The doctor used his oily art
Of strong emetic kind,
Th'apothecary played his part,
And engineered behind.
When physic ceased to spend its store
To bring away the stone,
Dicky, like people given o'er,
Picks up, when let alone.
His eyes dispelled their sickly dews,
He pecked behind his wing;
Lucia, recovering at the news,
Relapses for the ring.
Meanwhile within her beauteous breast
Two different passions strove;
When av'rice ended the contest,
And triumphed over love.
Poor little, pretty, fluttering thing,
Thy pains the sex display,
Who, only to repair a ring,
Could take thy life away.
Drive av'rice from your breasts, ye fair,
Monster of foulest mien:
Ye would not let it harbour there,
Could but its form be seen.
It made a virgin put on guile,
Truth's image break her word,
A Lucia's face forbear to smile,
A Venus kill her bird.

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