Aeroplanes | Page 8

poor
and humble;
Nor envy him who better fares,
But for each good, has
twenty cares.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE FOX AND THE CROW.
Crows feed upon worms: yet an author affirms
Cheshire cheese they
will get if they're able;
"For," said he, "I well know, one unprincipled
crow
Once purloined a large piece from my table."
Then away darted she, to the shade of a tree,
To deposit the booty
within her;
But it never occurr'd to the mind of the bird,
That a
_fox_ was to have it for dinner.
"How many a slip, 'twixt the cup and the lip!"
(Excuse me, I pray, the
digression,)
Said a fox to himself, "I can share in the pelf,
If I act
with my usual discretion."
So said he, "Is it you? pray, ma'am, how do you do,
I have long
wish'd to pay you a visit;
For a twelvemonth has pass'd, since I heard
of you last
Which is not very neighborly, is it?
"But, dear madam," said he, "you are dining, I see;
On that subject I'd

ask your advice;
Pray, ma'am, now can you tell, where provisions
they sell,
That are not an extravagant price?
"Bread and meat are so dear, and have been for a year,
That poor
people can scarcely endure it,
And then _cheese is so high_, that such
beggars as I,
_Till it falls_, cannot hope to procure it."
But the ill-behaved bird did not utter a word,
Still intent on retaining
her plunder;
Thought the fox, "It should seem, this is not a good
scheme, What else can I think of, I wonder?"
So said Reynard once more, "I ne'er knew it before,
But your feathers
are whiter than snow is!"
But thought he, when he'd said it, "she'll
ne'er give it credit, For what bird is so black as a crow is."
"But I'm
told that your voice is a horrible noise,
Which they say of all sounds
is the oddest;
But then this is absurd, for it never is heard,
Since you
are so excessively modest."
If _that's_ all thought the crow, "I will soon let you know That all doubt
on that score may be ended;"
Then most laughingly piped, the poor
silly biped,
When quickly her dinner descended!
MORAL.
If this _biped_ had not been so vain and conceited,
She would not by
the fox quite so soon have been cheated;
But perhaps the term
_biped_ to some may be new:
'Tis a two-legged creature--perchance
it is _you_.
[Illustration]
THE LION AND THE ECHO.
A lion, bravest of the wood,
Whose title undisputed stood,
As o'er
the wide domains he prowl'd,
And in pursuit of booty growl'd,
An
Echo from a distant cave
Regrowl'd, 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 ask'd. 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, durst thou call me, vile
pretender?"
Echo as loud replies, "Pretender!"
At this, as jealous of
his reign,
He growl'd in rage; she growl'd again.
Incensed the more,
he chafed and foam'd,
And round the spacious forest roam'd
To find
the rival of his throne,
Who durst with him dispute the crown.
A fox, who listen'd all the while,
Address'd the monarch with a smile:

"My liege, most humbly I make bold,
Though truth may not be
always told,
That this same phantom which 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, even the wise and brave are cow'd
By
apprehensions from the crowd:
A frog a lion may disharm,
And yet
how causeless the alarm!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE PAPER KITE.
Once on a time, a paper kite
Was mounted to a wondrous height;

Where, giddy with its elevation,
It thus express'd self-admiration:

"See how yon crowds of gazing people
Admire my flight above the
steeple;
How would they wonder, if they knew
All that a kite, like
me, could do?

Were I but free, I'd take a flight,
And pierce the
clouds beyond their sight.
But, ah! like a poor prisoner bound,
My
string confines me near the ground.
I'd brave the eagle's towering

wing,
Might I but fly without a string."
It tugg'd and pull'd, while
thus it spoke,
To break the string--at last it broke!
Deprived at once
of all its stay,
In vain it tried to soar away:
Unable its own weight to
bear,
It flutter'd downward through the air;
Unable its own course to
guide,
The winds soon plunged it in the tide.
Oh! foolish kite, thou
hadst no wing,
How could'st thou fly without a string?
My heart
replied, "Oh, Lord, I see
How much the kite resembles me!

Forgetful that by thee I stand,
Impatient of thy ruling hand;
How oft
I've wish'd to break the lines
Thy wisdom for my lot assigns!
How
oft indulged a vain desire
For something more or something higher!

And but for grace and love divine,
A fall thus dreadful had been
mine."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]