Will often find their hopes betray'd.
A Lark, her young unfit to fly,
Alarm'd to see the harvest nigh,
Ere she went forth to seek their food,
Thus catechis'd her callow brood:
"To-day who comes, with watchful care
Observe, nor lose a word you hear."
At night the nest with frighted mien,
Tell how the master they had seen;
"This corn admits of no delay,
'Tis ripe," he said, "so go this day
My son, without returning home,
At sun-rise bid our neighbours come." —
"If this be all," the Mother said,
As yet we nothing have to dread;
But be attentive as before."
At night again they cry, "all's o'er!
The neighbours fail'd, but friends and cousins
To-morrow they expect by dozens." —
"Tis well," the cunning Lark replied,
"Another day we may abide
In safety; but still watchful be,
And all you hear report to me."
"The men," they say, "have been again,
And are determin'd to begin
Themselves." The Mother cries, "Ho! ho!
If that's the case 'tis time to go.
Repose, and be prepar'd for flight
To-morrow ere the dawn of light."
Source: Boothby - Avianus 7.
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