To a Goose

If thou didst feed on western plains of yoreOr waddle wide with flat and flabby feetOver some Cambrian mountain's plashy moor,Or find in farmer's yard a safe retreatFrom gipsy thieves and foxes sly and fleet;If thy grey quills by lawyer guided, traceDeeds big with ruin to some wretched race,Or love-sick poet's sonnet, sad and sweet,Wailing the rigour of some lady fair;Or if, the drudge of

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