WITHIN the compass of a shady grove I long time saw a loving turtle fly, And lastly pitching by her gentle love, Sit kindly billing in his company: Till, hapless souls, a falcon, sharply bent, Flew towards the place where these kind wretches stood, And sev'ring them, a fatal accident, She from her mate flung speedy through the wood; And 'scaping from the hawk, a fowler set Close and with cunning underneath the shade, Entrapp'd the harmless creature in his net, And nothing moved with the plaint she made, Restrain'd her from the groves and deserts wide, Where, overgone with grief, poor bird, she died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AGE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR WREATHE THE BOWL by THOMAS MOORE RIDDLE: A STAR by MOTHER GOOSE RECOLLECTION by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH JAMESON'S RIDE by ALFRED AUSTIN TRINITIE SUNDAY by JOSEPH BEAUMONT MY JEWEL CASE by BESSE BURNETT BELL ON THE LIGHTHOUSE AT ANTIBES by MATHILDE BLIND WHOM EARTH HAS TAUGHT: PROSPICENCE by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS |