The Wax-Candle.

From bowers of G.o.ds the bees came down to man.

On Mount Hymettus, first, they say, They made their home, and stored away The treasures which the zephyrs fan.

When men had robb'd these daughters of the sky, And left their palaces of nectar dry,-- Or, in English as the thing's explain'd, When hives were of their honey drain'd-- The spoilers 'gan the wax to handle, And fashion'd from it many a candle.

Of these, one, seeing clay, made brick by fire, Remain uninjured by the teeth of time, Was kindled into great desire For immortality sublime.

And so this new Empedocles Upon the blazing pile one sees, Self-doom'd by purest folly To fate so melancholy.

The candle lack'd philosophy: All things are made diverse to be.

To wander from our destined tracks-- There cannot be a vainer wish; But this Empedocles of wax, That melted in chafing-dish Was truly not a greater fool Than he of whom we read at school.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WAX-CANDLE.]

The Shepherd and his Flock.

"What! shall I lose them one by one, This stupid coward throng?

And never shall the wolf have done?

They were at least a thousand strong, But still they've let poor Robin fall a prey!

Ah, woe's the day!

Poor Robin Wether lying dead!

He follow'd for a bit of bread His master through the crowded city, And would have follow'd, had he led, Around the world. Oh! what a pity!

My pipe, and even step, he knew; To meet me when I came, he flew; In hedge-row shade we napp'd together; Alas, alas, my Robin Wether!"

When w.i.l.l.y thus had duly said His eulogy upon the dead, And unto everlasting fame Consign'd poor Robin Wether's name, He then harangued the flock at large, From proud old chieftain rams Down to the smallest lambs, Addressing them this weighty charge,-- Against the wolf, as one, to stand, In firm, united, fearless band, By which they might expel him from their land.

Upon their faith, they would not flinch, They promised him, a single inch.

"We'll choke," said they, "the murderous glutton Who robb'd us of our Robin Mutton."

Their lives they pledged against the beast, And w.i.l.l.y gave them all a feast.

But evil Fate, than Phoebus faster, Ere night had brought a new disaster: A wolf there came. By nature's law, The total flock were prompt to run; And yet 'twas not the wolf they saw, But shadow of him from the setting sun.

_Harangue a craven soldiery,_ _What heroes they will seem to be!_ _But let them snuff the smoke of battle,_ _Or even hear the ramrods rattle,_ _Adieu to all their boast and mettle:_ _Your own example will be vain,_ _And exhortations, to retain_ _The timid cattle._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SHEPHERD AND HIS FLOCK.]

The Tortoise and the Two Ducks.

A light-brain'd tortoise, anciently, Tired of her hole, the world would see.

p.r.o.ne are all such, self-banish'd, to roam-- p.r.o.ne are all cripples to abhor their home.

Two ducks, to whom the gossip told The secret of her purpose bold, Profess'd to have the means whereby They could her wishes gratify.

"Our boundless road," said they, "behold!

It is the open air; And through it we will bear You safe o'er land and ocean.

Republics, kingdoms, you will view, And famous cities, old and new; And get of customs, laws, a notion,-- Of various wisdom, various pieces, As did, indeed, the sage Ulysses."

The eager tortoise waited not To question what Ulysses got, But closed the bargain on the spot.

A nice machine the birds devise To bear their pilgrim through the skies.

Athwart her mouth a stick they throw: "Now bite it hard, and don't let go,"

They say, and seize each duck an end, And, swiftly flying, upward tend.

It made the people gape and stare Beyond the expressive power of words, To see a tortoise cut the air, Exactly poised between two birds.

"A miracle," they cried, "is seen!

There goes the flying tortoise queen!"

"The queen!" ('twas thus the tortoise spoke;) "I'm truly that, without a joke."

Much better had she held her tongue, For, opening that whereby she clung, Before the gazing crowd she fell, And dash'd to bits her brittle sh.e.l.l.

_Imprudence, vanity, and babble,_ _And idle curiosity,_ _An ever-undivided rabble,_ _Have all the same paternity._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TORTOISE AND THE TWO DUCKS.]

The Two a.s.ses.

Two a.s.ses tracking, t'other day, Of which each in his turn, Did incense to the other burn, Quite in the usual way,-- I heard one to his comrade say, "My lord, do you not find The prince of knaves and fools To be this man, who boasts of mind Instructed in his schools?

With wit unseemly and profane, He mocks our venerable race-- On each of his who lacketh brain Bestows our ancient surname, a.s.s!

And, with abusive tongue portraying, Describes our laugh and talk as braying!

These bipeds of their folly tell us, While thus pretending to excel us."

"No, 'tis for you to speak, my friend, And let their orators attend.

The braying is their own, but let them be: We understand each other, and agree, And that's enough. As for your song, Such wonders to its notes belong, The nightingale is put to shame, The Sirens lose one half their fame."

"My lord," the other a.s.s replied, "Such talents in yourself reside, Of a.s.ses all, the joy and pride."

These donkeys, not quite satisfied With scratching thus each other's hide, Must needs the cities visit, Their fortunes there to raise, By sounding forth the praise, Each, of the other's skill exquisite.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TWO a.s.sES.]

The Shepherd and his Dog.

A shepherd, with a single dog, Was ask'd the reason why He kept a dog, whose least supply Amounted to a loaf of bread For every day. The people said He'd better give the animal To guard the village seignior's hall; For him, a shepherd, it would be A thriftier economy To keep small curs, say two or three, That would not cost him half the food, And yet for watching be as good.

The fools, perhaps, forgot to tell If they would fight the wolf as well.

The silly shepherd, giving heed, Cast off his dog of mastiff breed, And took three dogs to watch his cattle, Which ate far less, but fled in battle.

_Not vain our tale, if it convinces_ _Small states that 'tis a wiser thing_ _To trust a single powerful king,_ _Than half a dozen petty princes._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SHEPHERD AND HIS DOG.]