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guest with merry throat, Chirping by the taper light, Come, prolong thy blithesome note, Welcome songster of the night.

Here enjoy a calm retreat, In my chimney safely dwell; No rude hand thy haunt shall beat, Or chase thee from thy lonely cell.

Come, recount me all thy woes, While around us sighs the gale; Or, rejoiced to find repose, Charm me with a merry tale.

 

is a flow'r, a little flow'r, With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes ev'ry passing hour, And weathers ev'ry changeful sky. The prouder beauties of the field In gay but quick succession shine; Race after race their honours yield, They bloom their day, and then decline.

The purple heath, and golden broom, On moory mountains catch the gale; O'er lawns the lily sheds perfume, The humble violet in the vale; But this bold floweret climbs the hill, Hides in the forest, haunts the glen, Plays on the margin of the rill, And peeps around the fox's den. 