Letter X. From The Blue-Bottle Fly To The Grasshopper. (The Bird And Insects' Post-Office.)

(CHARLES BLOOMFIELD.)




I.

    As I roamed t'other day,
    Neighbour Hop, in my way
    I discovered a nice rotten plum,
    Which you know is a treat;
    And, to taste of the sweet,
    A swarm of relations had come.


II.

    So we all settled round,
    As it lay on the ground,
    And were feasting ourselves with delight;
        But, for want of more thought
        To have watched, as we ought,
    We were suddenly seized - and held tight.

    III.

        In a human clenched hand,
        Where, unable to stand,
    We were twisted and tumbled about;
        But, perceiving a chink,
        You will readily think
    I exerted myself - I got out.

    IV.

        How the rest got away
        I really can't say;
    But I flew with such ardour and glee.
        That again, unawares,
        I got into the snares
    Of my foe Mr. Spider, you see;

    V.

        Who so fiercely came out
        Of his hole, that no doubt
    He expected that I was secure:
        But he found 'twould not do,
        For I forced my way through,
    Overjoyed on escaping, you're sure.



    VI.

        But I'll now take my leave,
        For the clouds I perceive
    Are darkening over the sky;
        The sun has gone in,
        And I really begin
    To feel it grow colder. - Good bye!

I'm, as ever, yours,

BLUE-BOTTLE FLY.