How did her tender heart rejoice,
What prayers she then preferred,
That she might with her tuneful voice,
Delight the brooding bird.

Gay nature smil'd, the prayer she blest,
Selina softly sung;
And felt delight of higher zest;
She nurst the callow young.

But Oh! when human pleasures rise,
To enviable height;
How subtly dark misfortune flies,
To crush them in her flight.

One morn, as nigh the cove so dear,
The quick Selina came:
A sight, which caus'd her grievous fear,
Convuls'd her tender frame!

Near it she draws, but entrance there
A swelling sea denies;
For hostile to her callow care,
The cruel waters rise.

Close to this cove's contracted side,
Three massive stones were laid;
Oft in bare sand, now scarce descried,
Fresh surges round them play'd.