THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE SPARROW.
A Nightingale her voice one day was tuning
In notes to match an organ's sonorous swell;
When by her cage a chattering Sparrow roaming
Stopped—his surprise at her attempt to tell.
"I marvel much, that such strange pains you take;
That you, who sing so sweetly and so well,
Your imitators, thus, your models make;
For sure, the notes the organ's pipes that swell,
It owes to imitation of your song."
"Nevertheless," replies the Nightingale,—
"Though it had learned of me, I would not fail
From it, in turn, instruction to derive.
And you will see the good results ere long.
To imitate my native bursts it sought;
I wish my untutored strains to modify
By the deep rules of science it has taught.
And thus, good sir, you see, that by and by,
My natural talent will by education thrive."
Has the caprice some learned fancy crossed,
That hours to study given are labor lost?
Who wisest is, will ever study most.
FABLE XLIX.
THE GARDENER AND HIS MASTER.
A copious fountain played
In a garden's flowery bed,
And served to form a basin
Where many fish were fed.
Of the watering of his flowers
The Gardener thought alone;
And drained it dry, till due supply
For carp and tench was gone.
His Master soon the mischief saw,
And scolds the careless sinner.
"The flowers I love; but also like
My mess of fish for dinner."
The Gardener, grown crusty,
So reads his Master's whim,
That he lets the plants go thirsty,
That carp and tench may swim.
In the garden, shortly after,
The indignant owner found
His flowers, all dry and withered,
Upon the parching ground.
"Booby! you need not water waste,
And leave me not a fish to taste;
Nor yet deny—to save the fish—
A single flower to grace the dish,"
Though the maxim may be trite,—
Unless you have the skill,
Taste and profit to unite,—
Lay by the author's quill.