Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON THE DEATH OF A LINNET, by GEORGE KEATE

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ON THE DEATH OF A LINNET, by            
First Line: Beneath this fragrant, woodbine's shade
Last Line: Enjoying still sweet liberty.
Subject(s): Linnets

Beneath this fragrant, woodbine's shade
A little songster's bones are laid;
Who, ever innocent and gay,
Felt all his hours glide smooth away;
No guilty passion tore his breast,
No dream of greatness broke his rest;
He with a cheerful patient mind
Played well that part the Gods assigned:
Nor matters it when this be done,
How soon the thread of life is spun!
Ye warbling tenants of the grove,
Approach this spot and mark your love;
Light hovering round on airy wing
Soft notes of plaintive friendship sing.
So may no prying eye pervade
The hedgerows where your young are laid;
Nor cruel hand of wanton boy
Your dwellings plunder or destroy:
Far may you bend your flight from where
The artful fowler spreads his snare,
And live from every danger free,
Enjoying still sweet liberty.

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