Tho' fiction speaks of dying notes, Sung by the swan in death resign'd; Is there a tribe, that flies or floats, Of sense, or feeling, less refin'd?
Yet simple as this bird we deem, My faithful ballad shall attest, One Swan displayed on Thames's stream, A feeling and a friendly breast
Cecilia liv'd on Thames's bank, A young and lovely married fair; To creatures kind of every rank, A favourite Swan had own'd her care.
Her lord, a merchant, frank and young, By probity was known to thrive; Their bliss enliven'd every tongue, They were the happiest pair alive;
For to increase their nuptial joy And their domestic scene adorn; Heaven crown'd their blessings with a boy, A finer boy was never born.
His sportive life had only run To six short months, how brief a date! When gay Cecilia's darling son, Was threaten'd with a deadly fate!
Her garden had a terrace fair, Beneath it, full the river flow'd, There she enjoyed the evening air, Her favourite Swan there proudly row'd.
The mother in her active arms, To make her boy benignly mild; And nobly proof 'gainst all alarms, There oft would exercise her child.
A boat-house by the terrace side, Shelter'd a small and simple boat: And sometimes half way o'er the tide Chain'd to its home, it us'd to float.
Here she, her infant, and her maid, Sport with the Swan, and give it bread; While her gay boy, of nought afraid, With lively transport sees it fed.
'Tis June--a sultry tempest wild Impends, Cecilia would retire, But checks herself to teach her child, The vivid light'ning to admire.
Her noble mind delights to rear In early fortitude, her boy; That he the voice of God may hear, With admiration's awful joy!
While to regain the vessel's shed, Her maid an active pilot stands; She to the music o'er her head, Dances the child with dauntless hands.
But whirlwinds rise: the vessel reel'd, Heaven! the sweet parent is o'erthrown: Her falling head she fails to shield, Attentive to her child alone.
Tis the tornado's ruthless blast; The mother stunn'd, the babe it bears Far from her senseless frame! aghast The maid, in speechless horror glares!
Yet swiftly to its proper shore, The whirlwind now the vessel drives, Where by the elemental roar Alarm'd, Cecilia's lord arrives.