> Minutest of the feathered kind, > Possessing every charm combin'd, > Nature, in forming thee, design'd >        That though shouldst be > A proof within how little space > She can comprise such perfect grace, > Rendering thy lovely fairy race >        Beauty's epitome. > Thou burnished colors to bestow, > Her pencil in the heavenly bow > She dipp'd, and made thy plumes to glow >        With every hue. *By Charlotte Smith*

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