The Eagle and the Magpie.
The eagle, through the air a queen,
And one far different, I ween,
In temper, language, thought, and mien,—
The magpie,—once a prairie cross'd.
The by-path where they met was drear,
And Madge gave up herself for lost;
But having dined on ample cheer,
The eagle bade her, "Never fear;
You're welcome to my company;
For if the king of gods can be
Full oft in need of recreation,—
Who rules the world,—right well may I,
Who serve him in that high relation:
Amuse me, then, before you fly."
Our cackler, pleased, at quickest rate
Of this and that began to prate.
No fool, or babbler for that matter,
Could more incontinently chatter.
At last she offer'd to make known—
A better spy had never flown—
All things, whatever she might see,
In travelling from tree to tree.
But, with her offer little pleased—
Nay, gathering wrath at being teased,—
For such a purpose, never rove,—
Replied th' impatient bird of Jove.
"Adieu, my cackling friend, adieu;
My court is not the place for you:
Heaven keep it free from such a bore!"
Madge flapp'd her wings, and said no more.
'Tis far less easy than it seems
An entrance to the great to gain.
The honour oft hath cost extremes
Of mortal pain.
The craft of spies, the tattling art,
And looks more gracious than the heart,
Are odious there;
But still, if one would meet success,
Of different parishes the dress
He, like the pie, must wear.
The Lion and the Hunter.
A braggart, lover of the chase,
Had lost a dog of valued race,
And thought him in a lion's maw.
He ask'd a shepherd whom he saw,
"Pray show me, man, the robber's place,
And I'll have justice in the case."
"'Tis on this mountain side,"
The shepherd man replied.
"The tribute of a sheep I pay,
Each month, and where I please I stray."
Out leap'd the lion as he spake,
And came that way with agile feet.
The braggart, prompt his flight to take,
Cried, "Jove, O grant a safe retreat!"
A danger close at hand
Of courage is the test.
It shows us who will stand—
Whose legs will run their best.