Classic Poem

I.

Tell me not of joy — There's none,
Now my little sparrow's gone?
He, just like you,
Would toy, and woo:
He would chirp, and flatter me;
And, 'till he saw me look, and smile ,
Lord! how sullen he would be!

II.

He would catch a crumb, and then,
Sporting, let it go, again;
He, from my lip,
Would sit, and sip,
From my plate, he lov'd to feed,
Here , wou'd hop, and there would run,
And ev'ry look, and motion, heed,
'Till my very heart he won.

III.

O! how eager he would fight!
And never hurt , tho' often bite!
He perch'd, alas!
Upon my glass,
And ev'ry thing, I did, would do:
Ruffling, now, his feathers, all,
Now, as sudden, let them fall,
And, then, grew proud, and sleek'd 'em, too.

IV.

Wou'd'st thou, Cupid , reach a heart,
With his feathers, wing thy dart:
Love might, that way,
Sure wounds convey.
But my faithful bird is gone;
Mournful turtles , murmur on.
Hop, ye Red-breasts , o'er his stone;
Cease to sing , and learn to mourn .