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He, ent’ring at the study door,
It's ample area 'gan explore ;

And something in the wind
Conjectur'd, sniffing round and round,
Better than all the books he found,

Food, chiefly, for the mind.
Just then, by adverse fate impress'd,
A dream disturb’d poor Bully's rest;

In sleep he seem'd to view
A rat, fast clinging to his cage,
And, screaming at the sad presage,

Awoke and found it true.
For, aided both by ear and scent,
Right to his mark the monster went-

Ah, Muse! forbear to speak
Minute the horrours that, ensu'd;
His teeth were strong, the cage was wood

He left poor Bully's beak.
He left it-but he should have ta'en :
That beak, whence issued many a strain

Of such mellifluous tone,
Might have repaid him well, I wote,
For silencing so sweet a throat,

Fast set within his own.
Maria weeps—The Muses mourn-
So when, by Bacchanalians torn,

On Thracian Hebrus’ side
The treé-enchanter Orplieus fell,
His head alone remain'd to tell
The cruel death he died.



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