Joanna Baillie ( 4 of 14 )
Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world
But those who slide along the grassy sod,
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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 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.
Oh, swiftly glides the bonnie boat.
Just parted from the shore,
And to the fisher's chorus-note,
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Oh, swiftly glides the bonnie boat.
Just parted from the shore,
And to the fisher's chorus-note,
Soft moves the dipping oar!
Good-morrow to thy sable beak,
And glossy plumage, dark and sleek,
Thy crimson moon and azure eye,
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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!
