  A true story A parrot, from the Spanish main, Full young and early caged came o'er, With bright wings, to the bleak domain Of Mulla's shore. To spicy groves where he had won His plumage of resplendent hue, His native fruits, and skies, and sun, He bade adieu. A heathery land and misty sky, And turned on rocks and raging surf His golden eye. But petted in our climate cold, He lived and chattered many a day: Until with age, from green and gold His wings grew grey. At last when blind, and seeming dumb, He scolded, laugh'd, and spoke no more, A Spanish stranger chanced to come To Mulla's shore; He hail'd the bird in Spanish speech, The bird in Spanish speech replied; Flapp'd round the cage with joyous screech, Dropt down, and died. T. Campbell |
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