Joanna Baillie

Good-morrow to thy sable beak,
And glossy plumage, dark and sleek,
Thy crimson moon and azure eye,
read more

Good-morrow to thy sable beak,
And glossy plumage, dark and sleek,
Thy crimson moon and azure eye,
Cock of the heath, so wildly shy!

Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world
But those who slide along the grassy sod,
read more

Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world
But those who slide along the grassy sod,
And sting the luckless foot that presses them?
There are who in the path of social life
Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune's sun,
And sting the soul.

The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But he, whose noble read more

The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But he, whose noble soul its fears subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.

A willing heart adds feather to the heel
And makes the clown a winged Mercury.

A willing heart adds feather to the heel
And makes the clown a winged Mercury.

The tyrant now
Trusts not to men: nightly within his chamber
The watch-dog guards his couch, the read more

The tyrant now
Trusts not to men: nightly within his chamber
The watch-dog guards his couch, the only friend
He now dare trust.