On A Fowler, By Isidorus Poem by William Cowper
On A Fowler, By Isidorus
Rating: ★2.7
With seeds and birdlime, from the desert air,
Eumelus gather'd free, though scanty fare.
No lordly patron's hand he deign'd to kiss
Nor luxury knew, save liberty, nor bliss.
Thrice thirty years he lived, and to his heirs
His seeds bequeath'd, his birdlime, and his snares.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: kiss
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8/14/2026 11:04:31 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
