COUSIN EMILY.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]

THE PARROT'S LAMENT.


Swinging in a gilded cage,
Petted like a baby's doll,
Thus I spend my dull old age,
And you call me "Poll."
But in youth I roved at will
Through the wild woods of Brazil.

When you ask me, "What's o'clock?"
Or repeat some foolish rhyme,
And I try your speech to mock,
I recall the time
When I raised my voice so shrill
In the wild woods of Brazil.

Sporting with my comrades there,
How I flew from bough to bough!
Then I was as free as air: