Kentucky Gazette And General Advertiser

"To Soar alot on Farcy's wing."

THE SOLITARY THRUSH.

WRITTEN BY A CAROLINIAN.

The sun had scarce display'd his light,
And bless'd again the new born day;
When far sequester'd from the sight,
A Thrush thus rais'd his mournful lay:

"Ye trees that shade the flowry grove,
Ye birds that now so sweetly sing;
Ah! tell me, tell me where's my love,
When with my notes the woods shall ring.

"Alas! my cheering hopes are vain,
Far from thee blossom'd wilds she's gone,
To fill my breast with anxious pain,
And leave me here forlorn to moan.

"But more for you my callow young,
Whose wants require a mother's care,
My mind's with killing sorrow wrung,
For soon, too soon my griefs you'll share.

"No more will she your wants supply,
Nor rouse you at the early dawn
Nor from her nest with pleasure fly,
To seek you food upon the lawn.

"No more, by yonder murmuring rill,
Where smooth and gentle waters glide;
We'll sip in peace and drink our fill,
Nor nestle by each other's side:

"Nor where yon torrent's rapid course,
Meanders as it foams along;
Now rippling smooth, now roaring hoarse,
We'll chaunt again our evening song."

Thus did he mourn his hapless fate,
And fill'd with grief the neighb'ring wood;
When suddenly his darling mate—
His long lost love, before him stood
Soon as his charmer he espied.
His longing eyes he scarce believ'd.
"And is it thou, my love," he cried.
"Or is my willing sight deceiv'd?

"Yes, yes, it is, it is my love,
Ah! welcome to my beating heart;
Again each blissful joy we'll prove,
And never, never more will part."

1. R.S.