He beat the harmless air, and worse; For, though so fierce and stout, By effort wearied out, He fainted, fell, gave up the quarrel; The Gnat retires with verdant laurel.

_We often have the most to fear From those we most despise; Again, great risks a man may clear Who by the smallest dies._

The Countryman and the Serpent

A Countryman, as Aesop certifies, A charitable man, but not so wise, One day in winter found, Stretched on the snowy ground, A chill'd or frozen Snake, As torpid as a stake, And, if alive, devoid of sense.

He took him up, and bore him home, And, thinking not what recompense For such a charity would come, Before the fire stretch'd him, And back to being fetch'd him.

The Snake scarce felt the genial heat Before his heart with native malice beat.

He raised his head, thrust out his forked tongue, Coil'd up, and at his benefactor sprung.

"Ungrateful wretch!" said he, "is this the way My care and kindness you repay?

Now you shall die." With that his axe he takes, And with two blows three serpents makes.

Trunk, head, and tail were separate snakes; And, leaping up with all their might, They vainly sought to reunite.

_'Tis good and lovely to be kind; But charity should not be blind; For as to wretchedness ingrate, You cannot raise it from its wretched state._

The Dairywoman and the Pot of Milk

A Pot of Milk upon her cushioned crown, Good Peggy hastened to the market town; Short-clad and light, with step she went, Not fearing any accident; Indeed to be the nimbler tripper, Her dress that day, The truth to say, Was simply petticoat and slipper.

And, thus bedight, Good Peggy, light, Her gains already counted, Laid out the cash At single dash, Which to a hundred eggs amounted.

Three nests she made, Which, by the aid Of diligence and care, were hatched.

"To raise the chicks, We'll easily fix,"

Said she, "beside our cottage thatched.

The fox must get More cunning yet, Or leave enough to buy a pig.

With little care, And any fare, He'll grow quite fat and big; And then the price Will be so nice For which the pork will sell!

'Twill go quite hard But in our yard I'll bring a cow and calf to dwell-- A calf to frisk among the flock!"

The thought made Peggy do the same; And down at once the milk pot came, And perished with the shock.

Calf, cow, and pig, and chicks, adieu!

Your mistress' face is sad to view-- She gives a tear to fortune spilt; Then, with the down-cast look of guilt, Home to her husband empty goes, Somewhat in danger of his blows.

Who buildeth not, sometimes, in air, His cots, or seats, or castles fair?

From kings to dairywomen--all-- The wise, the foolish, great and small-- Each thinks his waking dream the best.

Some flattering error fills the breast: The world, with all its wealth, is ours, Its honours, dames, and loveliest bowers.

Instinct with valour, where alone, I hurl the monarch from his throne; The people glad to see him dead, Elect me monarch in his stead, And diadems rain on my head.

Some accident then calls me back, And I'm no more than simple Jack!

The Monkey and the Cat

Sly Bertrand and Ratto in company sat, (The one was a Monkey, the other a Cat,) Co-servants and lodgers: More mischievous codgers Ne'er mess'd from a platter, since platters were flat.

Was anything wrong in the house or about it, The neighbours were blameless--no mortal could doubt it; For Bertrand was thievish, and Ratto so nice, More attentive to cheese than he was to the mice.

One day the two plunderers sat by the fire, Where chestnuts were roasting, with looks of desire.

To steal them would be a right n.o.ble affair.

A double inducement our heroes drew there-- 'Twould benefit them, could they swallow their fill, And then 'twould occasion to somebody ill.

Said Bertrand to Ratto, "My brother, to-day Exhibit your powers in a masterly way, And take me these chestnuts, I pray.

Which were I but otherwise fitted (As I am ingeniously wilted) For pulling things out of the flame, Would stand but a pitiful game."

"'Tis done," replied Ratto, all prompt to obey; And thrust out his paw in a delicate way.

First giving the ashes a scratch, He open'd the coveted batch; Then lightly and quickly impinging, He drew out, in spite of the singeing, One after another, the chestnuts at last-- While Bertrand contrived to devour them as fast.

A servant girl enters. Adieu to the fun.

Our Ratto was hardly contented, says one.

_No more are the princes, by flattery paid For furnishing help in a different trade, And burning their fingers to bring More power to some mightier king._

The Lioness and the Bear

The Lioness had lost her young; A hunter stole it from the vale; The forests and the mountains rung Responsive to her hideous wail.

Nor night, nor charms of sweet repose, Could still the loud lament that rose From that grim forest queen.

No animal, as you might think, With such a noise could sleep a wink.

A Bear presumed to intervene.

"One word, sweet friend," quoth she, "And that is all, from me.

The young that through your teeth have pa.s.sed, In file unbroken by a fast, Had they nor dam nor sire?"

"They had them both." "Then I desire, Since all their deaths caused no such grievous riot, While mothers died of grief beneath your fiat, To know why you yourself cannot be quiet?"

"I quiet!--I!--a wretch bereaved!

My only son!--such anguish be relieved!

No, never! All for me below Is but a life of tears and woe!"-- "But say, why doom yourself to sorrow so?"

"Alas! 'tis Destiny that is my foe."

_Such language, since the mortal fall, Has fallen from the lips of all.

Ye human wretches, give your heed; For your complaints there's little need.

Let him who thinks his own the hardest case, Some widowed, childless Hecuba behold, Herself to toil and shame of slavery sold, And he will own the wealth of heavenly grace._

The Cat and the Two Sparrows

Contemporary with a Sparrow tame There lived a Cat; from tenderest age, Of both, the basket and the cage Had household G.o.ds the same.

The Bird's sharp beak full oft provoked the Cat, Who play'd in turn, but with a gentle pat, His wee friend sparing with a merry laugh, Not punishing his faults by half.

In short, he scrupled much the harm, Should he with points his ferule arm.

The Sparrow, less discreet than he, With dagger beak made very free.

Sir Cat, a person wise and staid, Excused the warmth with which he play'd: For 'tis full half of friendship's art To take no joke in serious part.

Familiar since they saw the light, Mere habit kept their friendship good; Fair play had never turn'd to fight, Till, of their neighbourhood, Another sparrow came to greet Old Ratto grave and Saucy Pete.

Between the birds a quarrel rose, And Ratto took his side.

"A pretty stranger, with such blows To beat our friend!" he cried.

"A neighbour's sparrow eating ours!

Not so, by all the feline powers."

And quick the stranger he devours.

"Now, truly," saith Sir Cat, "I know how sparrows taste by that.

Exquisite, tender, delicate!"

This thought soon seal'd the other's fate.

But hence what moral can I bring?

For, lacking that important thing, A fable lacks its finishing: I seem to see of one some trace, But still its shadow mocks my chase.