Little wanton flutt'rer, say Whither wou'dst thou wing thy way? Why those airy circles make, All untry'd the thorny brake? Various dangers lurking lie In the guise of liberty; See the wily fowler laid Close beneath the hawthorn shade; Mark his tyrannous intent, Full on schemes of murder bent; For within that rugged breast Meek-ey'd Pity ne'er wou'd rest, Nor the softer powers of Love E'er that stoick heart could move, Little trembler, hither fly, In my bosom safely lie; Sympathy and tenderness Doth that bosom still possess; There thy glossy plumes unfold Plumes of azure and of gold; While secure from every harm, Pining want and rude alarm, A willing captive still remain, Nor with thy liberty to gain. Whisp'ring Nature prompts to fly, Seeking sweet society; Or the gentler voice of Love Bids thee range the mazy grove; Ah! thy fond intent forbear, Transient joys which end in care; All a parent's anxious woe Soon thy downy breast would know, Lest the school-boy's truant eye Shou'd thy tender young descry; Lest the ruder vernal storm Shou'd thy little nest deform, Hither then, thou wanton, fly, Bless thy soft captivity; And lull with notes of soothing sound The pangs which do my bosom wound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESTIC SONG by DAVID IGNATOW LOVELIGHT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO GOD THE FATHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JOHNNY APPLESEED by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |