Hawk or shrike has done this deed

Of downy feathers: rueful sight!

Sweet sentimentalist, invite

Your bosom's Power to intercede.

So hard it seems that one must bleed

Because another needs will bite!

All round we find cold Nature slight

The feelings of the totter-knee'd.

O it were pleasant, with you

To fly from this tussle of foes,

The shambles, the charnel, the wrinkle!

To dwell in yon dribble of dew

On the cheek of your sovereign rose,

And live the young life of a twinkle.