The Magpie Turned Preacher

A MAGPIE chanc'd one day to perch
Upon a pulpit, in a church.
He heard them preach, he heard them sing,
And thought it was an easy thing.
He eye'd the door, then out he flew,
Call'd all the birds he ever knew;
Said that religion he should teach,
Turn parson, and begin to preach;
Subscriptions would be taken down
In the fir grove, beyond the town.
        'Twas strange, but plausible--and so
They all agree'd that they should go;

But precluded not was wonder.
Each together, and asunder,
Declar'd, while waving on his twig,
He was a sly presuming prig.
Tho' not to flinch, the gen'rous tribe
All carry'd something to subscribe.
One took a single grain of wheat,
Which all the while he wish'd to eat;
One took a cherry; one a stone;
A seed another, newly sown.
Mag, in the grove beyond the town,
Sat in great state, and took names down.
When Sunday came, they heard the bell--
For who the difference could tell?--
Maggy had got a hollow bone,
Which hard he hit against a stone.
When all assembled, seats were made,
Some boughs were stript, some form'd a shade.

Maggy was seated on a spray
The topmost, and began to pray;
Then with solemnity to preach,
Nodding and bending round to each;
He rais'd his voice, and sunk it too,
Then made a pause, as parsons do.
        The time arriv'd for them to sing;
This was to touch a tender string.
Who can shine in every way!
Maggy could talk, and preach, and pray,
But could not raise a single note;
While ev'ry warbler swell'd his throat,
Nor ceas'd, till Mag, half tir'd to death,
Had chatter'd till he lost his breath.
Then all declar'd he was a cheat,
Receiving dainty food to eat;
But not a word they understood,
And not a sentence was there good.

So in the grove, if long he staid,
He should repent his new-found trade,
Which they could all explain as well
As any thing that he could tell.

MORAL.

So vain pretender e'er was born,
But saw his hopes o'erturn'd with scorn.

Original fables by a Lady

Printed by W. Calvert, Shire Lane, Lincoln's Inn, for B. Crosby and Co. London, 1810

To your Royal Highness the following Fables are dedicated, with a wish that in an interval of leisure some transient amusement may be obtained.