Chapter VIII: Part 8

The sorest ill that Heaven hath
Sent on this lower world in wrath--
The Plague (to call it by its name)
One single day of which
Would Pluto's ferryman enrich--
Waged war on beasts, both wild and tame.
They died not all, but all were sick:
No hunting now, by force or trick,
To save what might so soon expire,
No food excited their desire;
Nor wolf nor fox now watch'd to slay
The innocent and tender prey.
The turtles fled;
So love and therefore joy were dead.
The Lion council held, and said:
"My friends, I do believe
This awful scourge, for which we grieve,
Is for our sins a punishment
Most righteously by Heaven sent.
Let us our guiltiest beast resign,
A sacrifice to wrath divine.
Perhaps this offering, truly small,
May gain me life and health of all.
By history we find it noted
That lives have been just so devoted.
Then let us all turn eyes within,
And ferret out the hidden sin.
Himself let no one spare nor flatter,
But make clean conscience in the matter.
For me, my appetite has play'd the glutton
Too much and often upon mutton.
What harm had e'er my victims done?
I answer, truly, None.
Perhaps, sometimes, by hunger pressed,
I've eat the shepherd with the rest.
I yield myself, if need there be;
And yet I think, in equity,
Each should confess his sins with me;
For laws of right and justice cry,
The guiltiest alone should die."
"Sire," said the Fox, "your majesty
Is humbler than a king should be,
And over-squeamish in the case.
What! eating stupid sheep a crime?
No, never, sire, at any time.
It rather was an act of grace,
A mark of honour to their race.
And as to shepherds, one may swear,
The fate your majesty describes
Is recompense less full than fair
For such usurpers o'er our tribes."

Thus Reynard glibly spoke,
And loud applause from flatterers broke,
Of neither tiger, boar, nor bear,
Did any keen inquirer dare
To ask for crimes of high degree;
The fighters, biters, scratchers, all
From every mortal sin were free;
The very dogs, both great and small,
Were saints, as far as dogs could be.

The Ass, confessing in his turn,
Thus spoke in tones of deep concern:
"I happen'd through a mead to pass;
The monks, its owners, were at mass;
Keen hunger, leisure, tender grass,
And add to these the devil too,
All tempted me the deed to do.
I browsed the bigness of my tongue;
Since truth must out, I own it wrong."

On this, a hue and cry arose,
As if the beasts were all his foes:
A Wolf, haranguing lawyer-wise,
Denounced the Ass for sacrifice--
The bald-pate, scabby, ragged lout,
By whom the plague had come, no doubt.
His fault was judged a hanging crime.
"What? eat another's grass? O shame!
The noose of rope and death sublime,
For that offence, were all too tame!"
And soon poor Grizzle felt the same.

_Thus human courts acquit the strong,
And doom the weak, as therefore wrong._

The Fowler, the Hawk, and the Lark

From wrongs of wicked men we draw
Excuses for our own;
Such is the universal law.
Would you have mercy shown,
Let yours be clearly known.

A Fowler's mirror served to snare
The little tenants of the air.
A Lark there saw her pretty face,
And was approaching to the place.
A Hawk, that sailed on high,
Like vapour in the sky,
Came down, as still as infant's breath,
On her who sang so near her death.
She thus escaped the Fowler's steel,
The Hawk's malignant claws to feel.
While in his cruel way,
The pirate plucked his prey,
Upon himself the net was sprung.
"O Fowler," prayed he in the hawkish tongue,
"Release me in thy clemency!
I never did a wrong to thee."
The man replied, "'Tis true;
And did the Lark to you?"

Phoebus and Boreas

Old Boreas and the Sun, one day,
Espied a traveller on his way,
Whose dress did happily provide
Against whatever might betide.
The time was autumn, when, indeed,
All prudent travellers take heed.
The rains that then the sunshine dash,
And Iris with her splendid sash,
Warn one who does not like to soak
To wear abroad a good thick coat.
Our man was therefore well bedight
With double mantle, strong and tight.
"This fellow," said the Wind, "has meant
To guard from every ill event;
But little does he wot that I
Can blow him such a blast
That, not a button fast,
His cloak shall cleave the sky.
Come, here's a pleasant game. Sir Sun!
Wilt play?" Said Phoebus, "Done!
We'll bet between us here
Which first will take the gear
From off this cavalier.
Begin, and shut away
The brightness of my ray."
"Enough." Our blower, on the bet,
Swelled out his pursy form
With all the stuff for storm--
The thunder, hail, and drenching wet,
And all the fury he could muster;
Then, with a very demon's bluster,
He whistled, whirled, and splashed,
And down the torrents dashed,
Full many a roof uptearing
He never did before,
Full many a vessel bearing
To wreck upon the shore--
And all to doff a single cloak.
But vain the furious stroke;
The traveller was stout,
And kept the tempest out,
Defied the hurricane,
Defied the pelting rain;
And as the fiercer roared the blast,
His cloak the tighter held he fast.
The Sun broke out, to win the bet;
He caused the clouds to disappear,
Refreshed and warmed the cavalier,
And through his mantle made him sweat,
Till off it came, of course,
In less than half an hour;
And yet the Sun saved half his power--
So much does mildness more than force.

The Stag and the Vine

A Stag, by favour of a Vine,
Which grew where suns most genial shine,
And formed a thick and matted bower
Which might have turned a summer shower,
Was saved by ruinous assault.
The hunters thought their dogs at fault,
And called them off. In danger now no more
The Stag, a thankless wretch and vile,
Began to browse his benefactress o'er.
The hunters listening the while,
The rustling heard, came back,
With all their yelping pack,
And seized him in that very place.
"This is," said he, "but justice, in my case.
Let every black ingrate
Henceforward profit by my fate."
The dogs fell to--'twere wasting breath
To pray those hunters at the death.
They left, and we will not revile 'em,
A warning for profaners of asylum.

The Peacock Complaining to Juno

The Peacock to the Queen of heaven
Complained in some such words:
"Great goddess, you have given
To me, the laughing stock of birds,
A voice which fills, by taste quite just,
All nature with disgust;
Whereas that little paltry thing,
The nightingale, pours from her throat
So sweet and ravishing a note;
She bears alone the honours of the spring."
In anger Juno heard,
And cried, "Shame on you, jealous bird!
Grudge you the nightingale her voice,
Who in the rainbow neck rejoice,
Than costliest silks more richly tinted,
In charms of grace and form unstinted--
Who strut in kingly pride,
Your glorious tail spread wide
With brilliants which in sheen do
Outshine the jeweller's bow window?
Is there a bird beneath the blue
That has more charms than you?
No animal in everything can shine.
By just partition of our gifts divine,
Each has its full and proper share.
Among the birds that cleave the air
The hawk's a swift, the eagle is a brave one,
For omens serves the hoarse old raven,
The rook's of coming ills the prophet;
And if there's any discontent,
I've heard not of it.
Cease, then, your envious complaint;
Or I, instead of making up your lack,
Will take your boasted plumage from your back."

The Eagle and the Beetle

John Rabbit, by Dame Eagle chased,
Was making for his hole in haste,
When, on his way, he met a Beetle's burrow.
I leave you all to think
If such a little chink
Could to a rabbit give protection thorough;
But, since no better could be got,
John Rabbit, there was fain to squat.
Of course, in an asylum so absurd,
John felt ere long the talons of the bird.
But first the Beetle, interceding, cried,
"Great queen of birds, it cannot be denied
That, maugre my protection, you can bear
My trembling guest, John Rabbit, through the air,
But do not give me such affront, I pray;
And since he craves your grace,
In pity of his case,
Grant him his life, or take us both away;
For he's my gossip, friend and neighbour."
In vain the Beetle's friendly labour;
The Eagle clutched her prey without reply,
And as she flapped her vasty wings to fly,
Struck down our orator and stilled him--
The wonder is she hadn't killed him.
The Beetle soon, of sweet revenge in quest
Flew to the old, gnarled mountain oak,
Which proudly bore that haughty Eagle's nest.
And while the bird was gone,
Her eggs, her cherished eggs, he broke,
Not sparing one.
Returning from her flight, the Eagle's cry
Of rage and bitter anguish filled the sky,
But, by excess of passion blind,
Her enemy she failed to find.
Her wrath in vain, that year it was her fate
To live a mourning mother, desolate.
The next, she built a loftier nest; 'twas vain;
The Beetle found and dashed her eggs again.

John Rabbit's death was thus avenged anew.
The second mourning for her murdered brood
Was such that through the giant mountain wood,
For six long months, the sleepless echo flew.
The bird, once Ganymede, now made
Her prayer to Jupiter for aid;
And, laying them within his godship's lap,
She thought her eggs now safe from all mishap;
The god his own could not but make them--
No wretch would venture there to break them.
And no one did. Their enemy, this time,
Upsoaring to a place sublime,
Let fall upon his royal robes some dirt,
Which Jove just shaking, with a sudden flirt,
Threw out the eggs, no one knows whither.
When Jupiter informed her how th' event
Occurred by purest accident,
The Eagle raved; there was no reasoning with her;
She gave out threats of leaving court,
To make the desert her resort,
And other brav'ries of this sort.
Poor Jupiter in silence heard
The uproar of his favourite bird.
Before his throne the Beetle now appeared,
And by a clear complaint the mystery cleared.
The god pronounced the Eagle in the wrong.
But still, their hatred was so old and strong,
These enemies could not be reconciled;
And, that the general peace might not be spoiled--
The best that he could do--the god arranged
That thence the Eagle's pairing should be changed,
To come when Beetle folks are only found
Concealed and dormant under ground.

FABLES FROM THE SPANISH

OF

CARLOS YRIARTE*

"_As the impressions made upon a new vessel are not easily to be effaced, so here youth are taught prudence through the allurement of fable._"

*Translated by Richard Andrew

FABLES FROM THE SPANISH

The Bee and the Cuckoo

A Cuckoo, near a hive, one day,
Was chaunting in his usual way,
When to the door the Queen-bee ran,
And, humming angrily, began:

"Do cease that tuneless song I hear--
How can we work while thou art near?
There is no other bird, I vow,
Half so fantastical as thou,
Since all that ugly voice can do,
Is to sing on--'Cuckoo! cuckoo'!"

"If my monotony of song
Displeases you, shall I be wrong,"
The Cuckoo answered, "if I find
Your comb has little to my mind?
Look at the cells--through every one
Does not unvaried sameness run?
Then if in me there's nothing new,
Dear knows, all's old enough in you."
The Bee replied: "Hear me, my friend.
In works that have a useful end
It is not always worth the while
To seek variety in style,
But if those works whose only views
Are to give pleasure and amuse,
Want either fancy or invention,
They fail of gaining their intention."

The Rope Dancer and His Pupil

A Tight-rope Dancer who, they say,
Was a great master in his way,
Was tutoring a Youth to spring
Upon the slight and yielding string,
Who, though a novice in the science,
Had in his talents great reliance,
And, as on high his steps he tried,
Thus to his sage instructor cried:
"This pole you call the counterpoise
My every attitude annoys;
I really cannot think it good
To use this cumbrous piece of wood
In such a business as ours,
An art requiring all our powers.
Why should I with this burden couple?
Am I not active, strong and supple?
So--see me try this step without it,
I'll manage better, do not doubt it--
See, 'tis not difficult at all,"
He said, and let the balance fall,
And, taking fearlessly a bound,
He tumbled headlong on the ground,
With compound fracture of the shin,
And six or seven ribs crushed in.

"Unhappy youth!" the Master said,
"What was your truest help and aid
Impediment you thought to be--
For art and method if you flee,
Believe me, ere your life is past,
This tumble will not be your last."

The Squirrel and the Horse

A Squirrel, on his hind legs raised,
Upon a noble Charger gazed,
Who docile to the spur and rein,
Went through his menage on the plain;
Now seeming like the wind to fly,
Now gracefully curvetting by.
"Good Sir," the little Tumbler said,
And with much coolness, scratched his head,
"In all your swiftness, skill and spirit,
I do not see there's much of merit,
For, all you seem so proud to do,
I can perform, and better too;
I'm light and nimble, brisk and sprightly,
I trot, and skip, and canter lightly,
Backward and forward--here and there,
Now on the earth--now in the air--
From bough to bough--from hill to hill,
And never for a moment still."
The Courser tossed his head on high;
And made the Squirrel this reply:
"My little nimble jealous friend,
Those turns and tumbles without end--
That hither, thither, restless springing--
Those ups and downs and leaps and swinging--
And other feats more wondrous far,
Pray tell me, of what use they are?
But what I do, this praise may claim--
My master's service is my aim,
And laudably I use for him
My warmth of blood and strength of limb."

The Bear, the Monkey, and the Pig

A Bear with whom a Piedmontese
Had voyaged from the Polar seas,
And by whose strange unwieldy gambols
He earned a living in his rambles,
One day, upon his hind legs set,
Began to dance a minuet.
At length, being tired, as well he might,
Of standing such a time upright,
He to a Monkey near advancing,
Exclaimed: "What think you of my dancing?"
"Really," he said, "ahem!" (I'm sure
This Monkey was a connoisseur)
"To praise it, I'd indeed be glad,
Only it is so very bad!"
"How!" said the Bear, not over pleased,
"Surely, your judgment is diseased,
Or else you cannot well have seen
My elegance of step and mien;
Just look again, and say what graces
You think are wanting in my paces."
"Indeed, his taste is quite amazing,"
Replied a Pig with rapture gazing;
"Bravo! encore! well done! Sir Bear,
By heaven, you trip as light as air;
I vow that Paris never knew
A dancer half so fine as you."

With some confusion, Bruin heard
Such praises by a Pig conferred;
He communed with himself a while,
And muttered thus, in altered style:
"I must confess the Monkey's blame
Made me feel doubtful of my fame;
But since the Pigs their praise concede,
My dancing must be bad, indeed!"

The Muff, the Fan, and the Parasol

"It sounds presumptuous and ill
To boast of universal skill,
But 'tis a scarce less fault, I own,
To serve one sort of use alone."
An idle Parasol, one day,
Within a lady's chamber lay,
And having nothing else to do,
Addressing his companions two,
Reclining near, a Muff and Fan,
He thus insultingly began,
Using a form of dialect,
In which, if Aesop is correct,
The Brass and Earthern Jars, of old,
Conversed as down the stream they rolled.
"Oh! sirs, ye merit mighty praise!
Yon Muff may do for wintry days,
A corner is your lot in spring;
While you, Fan, are a useless thing
When cold succeeds to heat; for neither
Can change yourself to suit the weather
Learn, if you're able to possess,
Like me a double usefulness,
From winter's rain I help to shun
And guard in summer from the sun."

The Duck and the Serpent

A self-conceited Duck, one day,
Was waddling from her pond away:
"What other race can boast," she cried,
"The many gifts to ours allied?
Earth--water--air--are all for us.
When I am tired of walking thus,
I fly, if so I take the whim,
Or if it pleases me I swim."
A cunning Serpent overheard
The boasting of the clumsy bird,
And, with contempt and scorn inflamed,
Came hissing up, and thus exclaimed:
"It strikes me, ma'am, there's small occasion
For your just uttered proclamation;
These gifts of yours shine rather dim,
Since neither like the trout you swim,
Nor like the deer, step swift and light,
Nor match the eagle in your flight."
They err who think that merit clings
To knowledge slight of many things;
He who his fellows would excel,
Whate'er he does should do it well.

The Tea and the Sage

The Tea from China on her way,
Met in some sea, or gulf, or bay--
(Would to her log I might refer!)
The Sage, who thus accosted her:
"Sister--ahoy! ho--whither bound?"
"I leave," she said, "my native ground
For Europe's markets, where, I'm told,
They purchase me by weight of gold."
"And I," the Sage replied, "am seeking
The route to Canton or to Peking;
Your Chinese use me largely in
Their cookery and medicine;
They know my virtues, nor deny
The praise I ask, however high,
While Europe scorns me, just indeed,
As if I was the vilest weed.
Go; and good luck t'ye; know full well
That you are sure enough to sell,
For nations all, (fools that they are!)
Value whatever comes from afar,
And give their money nothing loth,
For anything of foreign growth."

The Swan and the Linnet

Piqued at the Linnet's song one day,
The Swan exclaimed: "Leave off! I say--
Be still, you little noisy thing!
What!--dare _you_ challenge me to sing,
When there's no voice, however fine,
Can match the melody of mine?"
(The Linnet warbled on)--"D'ye hear?
This impudence may cost you dear;
I could with one harmonious note
Forever stop your squeaking throat,
And, if I do not choose to try,
Respect my magnanimity."
"I wish," at length the Linnet said,
"I wish, to heaven, the proof were made;
You cannot imagine how I long
To hear that rich and flowing song
Which though so sweet, by fame averred,
I know not who has ever heard."

The Swan essayed to sing, but--whew!
She screeched and squalled a note or two,
Until the Linnet, it appears,
Took to her wings to save her ears.
'Tis strange when some of learned fame
_Will_ prove their title to the name,
How often ill-placed praise they mar,
And show how ignorant they are.

The Flint and the Steel

The Flint, with language harsh and high,
Accused the Steel of cruelty
In striking her with all his might,
Whene'er he wanted fire and light.
The Steel the imputation spurned,
And with such warmth the contest burned
That both, at last, agreed to slip
Their contract of companionship.
"Good-by then, madame," said the one;
"And since my company you shun,
And to continue with me, doubt,
We'll see what use you are without."
"About as much as you will be,
Good sir," she answered, "without me."

FABLES OF GAY, COWPER, AND OTHERS

"Brutes are my theme. Am I to blame
If men in morals are the same?
I no man call or ape or ass;
'Tis his own conscience holds the glass.
Thus void of all offence I write;
Who claims the fable, knows his right."

JOHN GAY

FABLES OF GAY AND COWPER

The Monkey Who Had Seen the World

A Monkey, to reform the times,
Resolved to visit foreign climes;
For men in distant regions roam,
To bring politer manners home.
So forth he fares, all toil defies;
Misfortune serves to make us wise.
At length the treacherous snare was laid;
Poor Pug was caught, to town conveyed;
There sold. How envied was his doom,
Made captive in a lady's room!
Proud as a lover of his chains,
He day by day her favour gains.
Whene'er the duty of the day
The toilette calls, with mimic play
He twirls her knot, he cracks her fan,
Like any other gentleman.
In visits, too, his parts and wit,
When jests grew dull, were sure to hit.
Proud with applause, he thought his mind
In every courtly art refined;
Like Orpheus, burned with public zeal
To civilize the monkey weal:
So watched occasion, broke his chain,
And sought his native woods again.
The hairy sylvans round him press
Astonished at his strut and dress.
Some praise his sleeve, and others gloat
Upon his rich embroidered coat;
His dapper periwig commending,
With the black tail behind depending;
His powdered back above, below,
Like hoary frost or fleecy snow:
But all, with envy and desire,
His fluttering shoulder-knot admire.
"Hear and improve," he pertly cries,
"I come to make a nation wise.
Weigh your own worth, support your place,
The next in rank to human race.
In cities long I passed my days,
Conversed with men, and learned their ways,
Their dress, their courtly manners see;
Reform your state, and copy me.
Seek ye to thrive? in flatt'ry deal;
Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal.
Seem only to regard your friends,
But use them for your private ends.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit;
Be prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit.
Bend all your force to spatter merit;
Scandal is conversation's spirit.
Boldly to everything pretend,
And men your talents shall commend.
I know the Great. Observe me right,
So shall you grow like man polite."
He spoke and bowed. With mutt'ring jaws
The wond'ring circle grinned applause.
Now, warmed with malice, envy, spite,
Their most obliging friends they bite;
And, fond to copy human ways,
Practise new mischiefs all their days.
Thus the dull lad, too tall for school.
With travel finishes the fool:
Studious of every coxcomb's airs,
He gambles, dresses, drinks, and swears;
O'er looks with scorn all virtuous arts,
For vice is fitted to his parts.

JOHN GAY

The Shepherd's Dog and the Wolf

A Wolf, with hunger fierce and bold,
Ravag'd the plains, and thinn'd the fold:
Deep in the wood secure he lay,
The thefts of night regal'd the day.
In vain the shepherd's wakeful care
Had spread the toils, and watch'd the snare;
In vain the Dog pursued his pace,
The fleeter robber mock'd the chase.
As Lightfoot rang'd the forest round,
By chance his foe's retreat he found.
"Let us a while the war suspend,
And reason as from friend to friend."
"A truce?" replies the Wolf. "'Tis done."
The Dog the parley thus begun.
"How can that strong intrepid mind
Attack a weak defenceless kind?
Those jaws should prey on nobler food,
And drink the boar's and lion's blood,
Great souls with generous pity melt,
Which coward tyrants never felt.
How harmless is our fleecy care!
Be brave, and let thy mercy spare."
"Friend," says the Wolf, "the matter weigh;
Nature designed us beasts of prey;
As such, when hunger finds a treat,
'Tis necessary Wolves should eat.
If mindful of the bleating weal,
Thy bosom burn with real zeal,
Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech;
To him repeat the moving speech:
A Wolf eats sheep but now and then;
Ten thousands are devoured by men.
An open foe may prove a curse,
But a pretended friend is worse."

JOHN GAY

The Rat-catcher and Cats

The rats by night such mischief did,
Betty was ev'ry morning chid.
They undermin'd whole sides of bacon,
Her cheese was sapp'd, her tarts were taken.
Her pasties, fenc'd with thickest paste,
Were all demolish'd, and laid waste.
She curs'd the cat for want of duty,
Who left her foes a constant booty.
An Engineer, of noted skill,
Engag'd to stop the growing ill.
From room to room he now surveys
Their haunts, their works, their secret ways;
Finds where they 'scape an ambuscade.
And whence the nightly sally's made.
An envious Cat from place to place,
Unseen, attends his silent pace.
She saw, that if his trade went on,
The purring race must be undone;
So, secretly removes his baits,
And ev'ry stratagem defeats.
Again he sets the poisoned toils,
And Puss again the labour foils.
"What foe, to frustrate my designs,
My schemes thus nightly countermines?"
Incens'd, he cries: "This very hour
This wretch shall bleed beneath my power."
So said, a ponderous trap he brought,
And in the fact poor Puss was caught.
"Smuggler," says he, "thou shalt be made
A victim to our loss of trade."
The captive Cat, with piteous mews,
For pardon, life, and freedom sues.
"A sister of the science spare;
One int'rest is our common care."
"What insolence!" the man replies;
"Shall Cats with us the game divide?
Were all your interloping band
Extinguished, or expell'd the land,
We Rat-catchers might raise our fees.
Sole guardians of a nation's cheese!"
A Cat, who saw the lifted knife,
Thus spoke and sav'd her sister's life.
"In ev'ry age and clime we see
Two of a trade can ne'er agree.
Each hates his neighbour for encroaching;
'Squire stigmatizes 'squire for poaching;
Beauties with beauties are in arms.
And scandal pelts each other's charms;
Kings too their neighbour kings dethrone,
In hope to make the world their own.
But let us limit our desires;
Not war like beauties, kings, and 'squires!
For though we both one prey pursue,
There's game enough for us and you."

JOHN GAY

The Farmer's Wife and the Raven

Between her swaggering pannier's load
A Farmer's Wife to market rode,
And jogging on, with thoughtful care,
Summed up the profits of her ware;
When, starting from her silver dream,
Thus far and wide was heard her scream:
"That Raven on yon left-hand oak
(Curse on his ill-betiding croak)
Bodes me no good." No more she said,
When poor blind Ball, with stumbling head,
Fell prone; o'erturned the panniers lay,
And her mashed eggs bestrewed the way.
She, sprawling on the yellow road,
Railed, cursed, and swore: "Thou croaking toad,
A murrain take thy noisy throat!
I knew misfortune in the note."
"Dame," quoth the Raven, "spare your oaths,
Unclench your fist and wipe your clothes.
But why on me those curses thrown?
Goody, the fault was all your own;
For had you laid this brittle ware
On Dun, the old sure-footed mare,
Though all the Ravens of the hundred
With croaking had your tongue out-thundered,
Sure-footed Dun had kept her legs,
And you, good woman, saved your eggs."

JOHN GAY

The Council of Horses

Upon a time, a neighing steed,
Who grazed among a numerous breed,
With mutiny had fired the train,
And spread dissension through the plain.
On matters that concerned the state
The Council met in grand debate.
A Colt, whose eyeballs flamed with ire,
Elate with strength and youthful fire,
In haste stepped forth before the rest,
And thus the listening throng addressed:

"Good gods! how abject is our race,
Condemned to slavery and disgrace!
Shall we our servitude retain
Because our sires have borne the chain?
Consider, friends, your strength and might;
'Tis conquest to assert your right.
How cumb'rous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we designed for daily toil;
To drag the ploughshare through the soil;
To sweat in harness through the road;
To groan beneath the carrier's load?
How feeble are the two-legged kind!
What force is in our nerves combined!
Shall, then, our nobler jaws submit
To foam, and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it, heavens! Reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy, disdain.
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger's famished growl;
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name."

A general nod approved the cause,
And all the circle neighed applause,
When, lo! with grave and solemn face,
A Steed advanced before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,
And to the murmurs of the train
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain:
"When I had health and strength like you,
The toils of servitude I knew;
Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
At will I crop the year's increase;
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant, to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains;
But doth he not divide the care
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise
To fence us from inclement skies!
For us he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter's hay:
He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain,
We share the toil and share the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by Heaven assigned."
The tumult ceased. The colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

JOHN GAY

The Hare and Many Friends

Friendship, like love, is but a name,
Unless to one you stint the flame;
The child whom many fathers share
Hath seldom known a father's care.
'Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare, who in a civil way
Complied with everything, like Gay,
Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood or graze the plain;
Her care was never to offend,
And every creature was her friend.
As forth she went at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles to mislead the Hound,
And measures back her mazy round,
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half dead with fear she gasping lay.
What transport in her bosom grew
When first the Horse appeared in view!
"Let me," says she, "your back ascend.
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight;
To friendship every burden's light,"
The Horse replied, "Poor honest Puss,
It grieves my heart to see you thus:
Be comforted, relief is near,
For all your friends are in the rear."
She next the stately Bull implored;
And thus replied the mighty lord:
"Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may without offence pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.
Love calls me hence; a fav'rite Cow
Expects me near the barley-mow,
And when a lady's in the case
You know all other things give place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind;
But see, the Goat is just behind."
The Goat remarked her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye.
"My back," says she, "may do you harm.
The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm."
The Sheep was feeble, and complained
His sides a load of wool sustained:
Said he was slow, confessed his fears;
For Hounds eat Sheep as well as Hares.
She now the trotting Calf addressed
To save from death a friend distressed.
"Shall I," says he, "of tender age,
In this important care engage?
Older and abler passed you by--
How strong are those; how weak am I!
Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offence;
Excuse me, then; you know my heart,
But dearest friends, alas! must part.
How shall we all lament! Adieu!
For see, the Hounds are just in view."

JOHN GAY

The Nightingale and the Glowworm

A Nightingale, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor had at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the Glowworm by his spark;
So stepping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The Worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, right eloquent:
"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
"As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For, 'twas the self-same Power Divine
Taught you to sing and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."
The Songster heard his short oration,
And warbling out his approbation.
Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.
Hence, jarring sectaries may learn
Their real interest to discern,
That brother should not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other;
But sing and shine by sweet consent,
Until life's poor transient night is spent.
Respecting in each other's case.
The gifts of Nature and of Grace.

Those Christians best deserve the name
Who studiously make peace their aim;
Peace both the duty and the prize
Of him that creeps and him that flies.

WILLIAM COWPER

The Raven

A Raven, while with glossy breast
Her new-laid eggs she fondly pressed,
And on her wickerwork high mounted,
Her chickens prematurely counted,
(A fault philosophers might blame
If quite exempted from the same).
Enjoyed at ease the genial day;
'Twas April, as the bumpkins say;
The legislature called it May.
But suddenly a wind, as high
As ever swept a winter sky,
Shook the young leaves about her ears
And filled her with a thousand fears,
Lest the rude blast should snap the bough,
And spread her golden hopes below.
But just at eve the blowing weather
Changed, and her fears were hushed together:
"And now," quoth poor unthinking Ralph,[1]
"'Tis over, and the brood is safe."
(For Ravens, though, as birds of omen,
They teach both conjurers and old women
To tell us what is to befall,
Can't prophesy themselves at all.)
The morning came, when Neighbour Hodge,
Who long had marked her airy lodge,
And destined all the treasure there
A gift to his expecting fair,
Climbed, like a squirrel to his dray,
And bore the worthless prize away.

Moral

'Tis Providence alone secures,
In every change, both mine and yours:
Safety consists not in escape
From dangers of a frightful shape;
An earthquake may be bid to spare
The man that's strangled by a hair.
Fate steals along with silent tread
Found oftenest in what least we dread,
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow.

WILLIAM COWPER

[1]Pronounced Rafe.

Pairing Time Anticipated

I shall not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau
If birds confabulate or no;
'Tis clear that they were always able
To hold discourse, at least in fable;
And e'en the child who knows no better
Than to interpret by the letter
A story of a cock and bull
Must have a most uncommon skull.
It chanced then on a winter day,
But warm and bright and calm as May,
The Birds conceiving a design
To forestall sweet Saint Valentine,
In many an orchard, copse and grove,
Assembled on affairs of love,
And with much twitter, and much chatter,
Began to agitate the matter.
At length a Bullfinch, who could boast
More years and wisdom than the most,
Entreated, opening wide his beak,
A moment's liberty to speak;
And silence publicly enjoined,
Delivered, briefly, thus his mind--
"My friends! Be cautious how ye treat
The subject upon which we meet;
I fear we shall have winter yet."

A Finch, whose tongue knew no control,
With golden wing and satin poll,
A last year's bird who ne'er had tried
What marriage means, thus pert replied:
"Methinks the gentleman," quoth she,
"Opposite in the appletree,
By his good will would keep us single,
Until yonder heavens and earth shall mingle,
Or (which is likelier to befall)
Until death exterminate us all.
I marry without more ado,
My dear Dick Redcap; what say you?"

Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling;
With many a strut and many a sidling,
Attested, glad, his approbation
Of an immediate conjugation.
Their sentiments so well expressed
Influenced mightily the rest;
All paired, and each pair built a nest.

But though the birds were thus in haste,
The leaves came on not quite so fast,
And Destiny, that sometimes bears
An aspect stern on man's affairs,
Not altogether smiled on theirs.
The wind, of late breathed gently forth,
Now shifted east and east by north;
Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know,
Could shelter them from rain or snow;
Stepping into their nests, they paddled,
Themselves were chilled, their eggs were addled,
Soon every father-bird and mother
Grew quarrelsome and pecked each other,
Parted without the least regret,
Except that they had ever met,
And learned in future to be wiser
Than to neglect a good adviser.

WILLIAM COWPER

The Poet, the Oyster, and Sensitive Plant

An Oyster cast upon the shore
Was heard, though never heard before,
Complaining in a speech well worded,
And worthy thus to be recorded:
"Ah, hapless wretch comdemn'd to dwell
Forever in my native shell,
Ordain'd to move when others please,
Not for my own content or ease,
But toss'd and buffeted about,
Now in the water, and now out.
'Twere better to be born a stone
Of ruder shape and feeling none,
Than with a tenderness like mine,
And sensibilities so fine!
I envy that unfeeling shrub,
Fast rooted against every rub."
The plant he meant grew not far off,
And felt the sneer with scorn enough;
Was hurt, disgusted, mortified,
And with asperity replied.
("When," cry the botanists, and stare,
"Did plants call'd Sensitive grow there?"
No matter when--a poet's muse is
To make them grow just where she chooses):
"You shapeless nothing in a dish,
You that are but almost a fish,
I scorn your coarse insinuation,
And have most plentiful occasion
To wish myself the rock I view,
Or such another dolt as you.
For many a grave and learned clerk,
And many a gay unlettered spark,
With curious touch examines me
If I can feel as well as he;
And when I bend, retire, and shrink,
Says, 'Well--'tis more than one would think.'
Thus life is spent! oh fie upon't,
In being touched, and crying--'Don't'!"
A poet, in his evening walk,
Overheard and checked this idle talk.
"And your fine sense," he said, "and yours,
Whatever evil it endures,
Deserves not, if so soon offended,
Much to be pitied or commended.
Disputes, though short, are far too long,
Where both alike are in the wrong;
Your feelings in their full amount
Are all upon your own account."
"You, in your grotto-work enclosed,
Complain of being thus exposed,
Yet nothing feel in that rough coat,
Save when the knife is at your throat.
Wherever driven by wind or tide,
Exempt from every ill beside."
"And as for you, my Lady Squeamish,
Who reckon every touch a blemish,
If all the plants that can be found
Embellishing the scene around,
Should droop and wither where they grow,
You would not feel at all, not you.
The noblest minds their virtue prove
By pity, sympathy, and love:
These, these are feelings truly fine,
And prove their owner half divine."
His censure reached them as he dealt it.
And each by shrinking show'd he felt it.

WILLIAM COWPER

The Pineapple and the Bee

The Pineapples, in triple row,
Were basking hot, and all in blow.
A Bee of most deserving taste
Perceived the fragrance as he pass'd.
On eager wing the spoiler came,
And searched for crannies in the frame,
Urged his attempt on every side,
To every pane his trunk applied;
But still in vain, the frame was tight,
And only pervious to the light:
Thus having wasted half the day,
He trimm'd his flight another way.

* * * * *

Our dear delights are often such,
Exposed to view, but not to touch;
The sight our foolish heart inflames,
We long for pineapples in frames;
With hopeless wish one looks and lingers;
One breaks the glass, and cuts his fingers;
But they whom Truth and Wisdom lead,
Can gather honey from a weed.

WILLIAM COWPER

Amelia and the Spider

The muslin torn, from tears of grief
In vain Amelia sought relief;
In sighs and plaints she passed the day,
The tattered frock neglected lay:
While busied at the weaving trade,
A Spider heard the sighing maid,
And kindly stopping in a trice,
Thus offered (gratis) her advice:
"Turn, little girl, behold in me
A stimulus to industry;
Compare your woes my dear, with mine,
Then tell me who should most repine;
This morning, ere you'd left your room,
The chambermaid's relentless broom,
In one sad moment that destroyed
To build which thousands were employed.
The shock was great, but as my life
I saved in the relentless strife,
I knew lamenting was in vain,
So patient went to work again;
By constant work a day or more
My little mansion did restore.
And if each tear which you have shed
Had been a needleful of thread,
If every sigh of sad despair
Had been a stitch of proper care,
Closed would have been the luckless rent,
Nor thus the day have been misspent."

ANONYMOUS

The Goose and the Swans

A Goose, affected, empty, vain,
The shrillest of the cackling train,
With proud and elevated crest,
Precedence claimed above the rest,
Says she, "I laugh at human race,
Who say Geese hobble in their pace;
Look here--the slander base detect;
Not haughty man is so erect.
That Peacock yonder, see how vain
The creature's of his gaudy train.
If both were stripped, I'd pledge my word
A Goose would be the finer bird.
Nature, to hide her own defects,
Her bungled work with finery decks.
Were Geese set off with half that show,
Would men admire the Peacock? No!"
Thus vaunting, 'cross the mead she stalks,
The cackling breed attend her walks;
The sun shot down his noontide beams,
The Swans were sporting in the streams.
Their snowy plumes and stately pride
Provoked her spleen. "Why, there," she cried,
"Again, what arrogance we see!
Those creatures, how they mimic me!
Shall every fowl the waters skim
Because we Geese are known to swim?
Humility they soon shall learn,
And their own emptiness discern."
So saying, with extended wings,
Lightly upon the wave she springs;
Her bosom swells, she spreads her plumes,
And the Swan's stately crest assumes.
Contempt and mockery ensued,
And bursts of laughter shook the flood.
A Swan, superior to the rest,
Sprung forth, and thus the fool addressed:
"Conceited thing, elate with pride,
Thy affectation all deride;
These airs thy awkwardness impart,
And show thee plainly as thou art.
Among thy equals of the flock,
Thou hadst escaped the public mock;
And, as thy parts to good conduce,
Been deemed an honest, hobbling Goose.
Learn hence to study wisdom's rules;
Know, foppery's the pride of fools;
And, striving nature to conceal,
You only her defects reveal."

ANONYMOUS

The Rats and the Cheese

If Bees a government maintain,
Why may not Rats, of stronger brain
And greater power, as well be thought
By Machiavellian axioms taught?
And so they are, for thus of late
It happened in the Rats' free state.
Their prince (his subjects more to please)
Had got a mighty Cheshire Cheese,
In which his ministers of state
Might live in plenty and grow great.
A powerful party straight combined,
And their united forces joined
To bring their measures into play,
For none so loyal were as they;
And none such patriots to support
As well the country as the court.
No sooner were those Dons admitted,
But (all those wondrous virtues quitted)
They all the speediest means devise
To raise themselves and families.
Another party well observing
These pampered were, while they were starving,
Their ministry brought in disgrace,
Expelled them and supplied their place;
These on just principles were known
The true supporters of the throne.
And for the subjects' liberty,
They'd (marry, would they) freely die;
But being well fixed in their station,
Regardless of their prince and nation,
Just like the others, all their skill
Was how they might their paunches fill.
On this a Rat not quite so blind
In state intrigues as human kind,
But of more honour, thus replied:
"Confound ye all on either side;
All your contentions are but these,
Whose arts shall best secure the Cheese."

ANONYMOUS

The Drop of Rain

A little particle of rain
That from a passing cloud descended:
Was heard thus idly to complain:
"My brief existence now is ended!
Outcast alike of earth and sky,
Useless to live, unknown to die!"
It chanced to fall into the sea,
And there an open shell received it;
And after years how rich was he
Who from its prison-house released it!
The drop of rain had formed a gem
To deck a monarch's diadem.

ANONYMOUS

The Lion and the Echo

A Lion bravest of the wood,
Whose title undisputed stood,
As o'er the wide domains he prowled,
And in pursuit of booty growled,
An Echo from a distant cave
Re-growled articulately grave.
His Majesty, surprised, began
To think at first it was a man;
But, on reflection sage, he found
It was too like a lion's sound.
"Whose voice is that which growls at mine?"
His Highness asked. Says Echo, "Mine!"
"Thine," says the Lion; "who art thou?"
Echo as stern cried, "Who art thou?"
"Know I'm a lion, hear and tremble!"
Replied the king. Cried Echo, "Tremble!"
"Come forth," says Lion, "show thyself!"
Laconic Echo answered, "Elf!"
"Elf dost thou call me, vile pretender?"
Echo as loud replied, "Pretender?"
At this, as jealous of his reign,
He growled in rage--she growled again.
Incensed the more, he chafed and foamed,
And round the spacious forest roamed,
To find the rival of his throne,
Who durst with him dispute the crown.
A Fox, who listened all the while,
Addressed the monarch with a smile:
"My liege, most humbly I make bold,
Though truth may not be always told,
That this same phantom that you hear,
That so alarms your royal ear,
Is not a rival of your throne--
The voice and fears are all your own."

Imaginary terrors scare
A timorous soul with real fear!
Nay, e'en the wise and brave are cowed
By apprehensions from the crowd;

A frog a lion may disarm,
And yet how causeless the alarm!

ANONYMOUS

Here check we our career;
Long books I greatly fear;
I would not quite exhaust my stuff;
The flower of subjects is enough.

JEAN DE LA FONTAINE

THE END

INDEX OF TITLES

Acorn and the Pumpkin, The. La Fontaine (French)
Aesop and His Fellow Servants. Aesop (Greek)
Amelia and the Spider. Anonymous (English)
Animals' Peace Party, The. (Chinese)
Animals Sick of the Plague, The. La Fontaine (French)
Ant and the Fly, The. Aesop (Greek)
Ass and His Master, The. Aesop (Greek)
Ass and His Purchaser, The. Aesop (Greek)
Ass and His Shadow, The. Aesop (Greek)
Ass and the Dog, The. La Fontaine (French)
Ass and the Lap-dog, The. La Fontaine (French)
Ass Carrying Relics, The. La Fontaine (French)
Ass in the Lion's Skin, The. Aesop (Greek)

Bat and the Two Weasels, The. La Fontaine (French)
Bear and the Fowls, The. Aesop (Greek)
Bear, the Monkey and the Pig, The. Yriarte (Spanish)
Bee and the Cuckoo, The. Yriarte (Spanish)
Belling the Cat. Aesop (Greek)
Birds and the Monkeys, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)
Blackamoor, The. Aesop (Greek)
Blue Jackal, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)
Boasting Traveller, The. Aesop (Greek)
Boy and the Filberts, The. Aesop (Greek)
Boy and the Wolf, The. Aesop (Greek)
Boys and the Frogs, The. Aesop (Greek)
Brahmin and the Goat, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)
Buffoon and the Countryman, The. Aesop (Greek)
Builder of Ability and the Builder of Haste, The. (African)

Camel and His Master, The. Aesop (Greek)
Camel and the Pig, The. Raju (Indian)
Cat and the Fox, The. La Fontaine (French)
Cat and the Mice, The. Aesop (Greek)
Cat and the Two Sparrows, The. La Fontaine (French)
Chameleon, The. Aesop (Greek)
City Rat and the Country Rat, The. La Fontaine (French)
Cock and the Fox, The. La Fontaine (French)
Cock and the Jewel, The. Aesop (Greek)
Council of Horses, The. Gay (English)
Country Fellow and the River, A. Aesop (Greek)
Countryman and the Serpent, The. La Fontaine (French)
Crab and Its Mother, The. Aesop (Greek)
Crane and the Fool, The. Raju (Indian)
Crow and the Mussel, The. Aesop (Greek)
Crow and the Partridge, The. Bidpai (Indian)
Crow and the Pitcher, The. Aesop (Greek)
Cuckoo and the Cock, The. Krilof (Russian)
Cuckoo and the Eagle, The. Krilof (Russian)
Cuckoo and the Turtle-dove, The. Krilof (Russian)

Dairywoman and the Pot of Milk, The. La Fontaine (French)
Deer and the Lion, The. Aesop (Greek)
Demian's Fish Soup. Krilof (Russian)
Despot and the Wag, The. Raju (Indian)
Discontented Ass, The. Aesop (Greek)
Dog and His Shadow, The. Aesop (Greek)
Dog and the Crocodile, The. Aesop (Greek)
Dog and the Kingship. (African)
Dog in the Manger, The. Aesop (Greek)
Dove and the Ant, The. La Fontaine (French)
Drop of Rain, The. Anonymous (English)
Duck and the Serpent, The. Yriarte (Spanish)
Eagle and the Beetle, The. La Fontaine (French)
Eagle and the Mole, The. Krilof (Russian)
Eagle and the Owl, The. Aesop (Greek)
Eagle and the Owl, The. La Fontaine (French)
Eagle, the Jackdaw and the Magpie, The. Aesop (Greek)
Ears of the Hare, The. La Fontaine (French)
Earthen Pot and the Iron Pot, The. La Fontaine (French)
Education of the Lion, The. Krilof (Russian)
Elephant and Frog (African)
Elephant and the Jackal, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)
Elephant as Governor, The. Krilof (Russian)
Elephant Has a Bet with the Tiger, The. (Malayan)
Elephant in Favour, The. Krilof (Russian)

Falcon and the Capon, The. Aesop (Greek)
Farmer and His Dog, The. Aesop (Greek)
Farmer and the Stork, The. Aesop (Greek)
Farmer's Wife and the Raven, The. Gay (English)
Father "Lime-stick" and the Flower-pecker (Malayan)
Fawn and the Little Tiger, The. Raju (Indian)
Flies and the Honey-pot, The. Aesop (Greek)
Flint and the Steel, The. Yriarte (Spanish)
Fowler, the Hawk, and the Lark, The. La Fontaine (French)
Fox and the Countryman, The. Aesop (Greek)
Fox and the Crabs, The. Raju (Indian)
Fox and the Crow, The. Aesop (Greek)
Fox and the Drum, The. Bidpai (Indian)
Fox and the Grapes, The. Aesop (Greek)
Fox and the Stork, The. Aesop (Greek)
Fox and the Villagers, The. Raju (Indian)
Fox in the Well, The. Aesop (Greek)
Fox in the Well, The. Raju (Indian)
Fox, the Monkey, and the Animals, The. La Fontaine (French)
Fox, the Wolf, and the Horse, The. La Fontaine (French)
Fox Without a Tail, The. Aesop (Greek)
Frog Who Wished to Be as Big as an Ox, The. (Greek)
Frogs Desiring a King, The. Aesop (Greek)

Geese and the Tortoise, The. Bidpai (Indian)
Glowworm and the Daw, The. Raju (Indian)
Gnat and the Bull, The. Aesop (Greek)
Goose and the Swans, The. Anonymous (English)
Goose with the Golden Eggs, The. Aesop (Greek)
Grasshopper and the Ant, The. La Fontaine (French)
Greedy Jackal, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)

Hare and Many Friends, The. Gay (English)
Hare and the Partridge, The, La Fontaine (French)
Hare and the Pig, The. Raju (Indian)
Hare and the Tortoise, The. Aesop (Greek)
Hares and the Frogs, The. Aesop (Greek)
Hen and the Cat, The. (African)
Hen and the Chinese Mountain Turtle, The. (Chinese)
Hen and the Fox, The. Aesop (Greek)
Hercules and the Wagoner. Aesop (Greek)
Hermit, the Thief, and the Demon, The. Bidpai (Indian)
Hornets and the Bees, The. La Fontaine (French)
How Sense Was Distributed. (African)

Invalid Lion, The. Aesop (Greek)

Jackal and the Cat, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)
Jackdaw with Borrowed Plumes, The. Aesop (Greek)
Jupiter's Two Wallets. Aesop (Greek)

King and the Hawk, The. Bidpai (Indian)
King-crow and the Water-snail, The. (Malayan)
Kite and the Pigeons, The. Aesop (Greek)

Lark and Her Young Ones, The. Aesop (Greek)
Leopard and the Other Animals (African)
Lion and the Ass Hunting, The. La Fontaine (French)
Lion and the Echo, The. Anonymous (English)
Lion and the Gadfly, The. Raju (Indian)
Lion and the Gnat, The. La Fontaine (French)
Lion and the Goat, The. Raju (Indian)
Lion and the Mosquitoes, The. (Chinese)
Lion and the Mouse, The. Aesop (Greek)
Lion and the Rabbit, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)
Lion and the Wild Dog, The. (African)
Lion Going to War, The. La Fontaine (French)
Lion, the Bear, the Monkey, and the Fox, The. Aesop (Greek)
Lion, the Fox, and the Story-teller, The. Raju (Indian)
Lion, the Mouse, and the Cat, The. Hitopadesa (Sanskrit)
Lion's Share, The. La Fontaine (French)
Lioness and the Bear, The. La Fontaine (French)