BRITISH PHYSICIANS. No school boy, with his willow-bow, Shall aim at thee a murd'rous blow ; No wily limed twig ere molest Thy olive wing or crimson breast : Thy cup, sweet bird ! I'll duly fill At yonder cressy, bubbling rill ; Thy board shall plenteously be spread With crtunblets of the nicest bread : And when rude winter comes, and shows His icicles and shiv'ring snows, Hop o'er my cheering hearth, and be One of my peaceful family : Then sooth me with thy plaintive song, Thou sweetest of the feather d throng I SIGNS OF RAIN. An Excuse for not accepting the Invitation of a Friend to make a Countrij Excursion. The hollow winds begin to blow, The clouds look black, the glass is low, The soot falls down, the spaniels sleep, And spiders from their cobwebs creep. Last night the sun went pale to bed, The moon in halos hid her head. The boding shepherd heaves a sigh, For see ! a rainbow spans the sky. The walls are damp, the ditches smell j Closed is the pink-eyed pimpernel. Hark ! how the chairs and tables crack ; Old Betty's joints are on the rack. Loud quack the ducks, the peacocks cry j The distant hills are looking nigh. How restless are the snorting swine I — The busy flies disturb the kine. Low o'er the grass the swallow wings j The cricket, too, how loud it sings ! Puss, on the hearth, with velvet j)aws, Sits smoothing o'er her whisker'd jaws. Through the clear stream the fishes rise, And nimbly catch th' incautious flies; The sheep were seen, at early light, Cropping the meads with eager bite.
