FABLE XX.
THE BEE AND THE CUCKOO.
"Stop, Cuckoo," said the Bee;
"With my labor interferes
That unpleasant voice of thine,
Always ringing in my ears.
There is no bird, in song,
So monotonous as thou.
It is cuckoo all day long,
And nothing but cuckoo!"
"Wearies you, my monotone?"
The Cuckoo straight rejoined;
"So, too, one shape alone,
In thy waxen cells, I find.
If, in the self-same way,
You make a hundred as each one;
If I nothing new can say,
Nothing new by you is done."
This was the Bee's reply:
"A work of usefulness
May lack variety,
And be valued none the less.
But in a work designed
To gratify the taste,
If we no invention find,
Aught else is tedious waste."
FABLE XXI.
THE RAT AND THE CAT.
At telling of rabies old Esop was grand;
With his subtile invention, his wisdom so great.
And a story of his, as I have it at hand,
Into our own language I now will translate.
"It is plain," said a Rat, at the mouth of his hole,
"No distinction more lovely and noble is found
Than fidelity. Therefore it is, on my soul,
I love and respect the generous Hound."
A Cat answered, hard by: "This quality fine
I assure you is also a merit of mine."—
"Ah! what's that?" said the Rat, as, in terrible fright
He sprang to his hole, and, when safe out of sight,
Just poking his nose out, he coolly did call:
"You boast of it, hey? I don't like it at all."
The honor which many would freely allow,
They retract, when it lights on an enemy's brow.
Now what say you, my reader? "The fable is one
Which delights and instructs. It is perfectly done.
Esop had, in these things, a way of his own."
Ah! but look, my good sir; from this noddle of mine
It all came. Your friend Esop wrote never a line—
Of the whole.—"Ah, indeed! Then the fable is thine?"
Yes it is, learned man; and I ween you'll not fail.
Being mine, to attack it with tooth and with nail.