THE CROW AND THE FOX
A master crow, perched on a tree one day
Was holding in his beak a cheese—
A master fox, by the odor drawn that way,
Spake unto him in words like these:
“O, good morning, my Lord Crow!
How well you look, how handsome you do grow!
’Pon my honor, if your note
Bears a resemblance to your coat,
You are the phœnix of the dwellers in these woods.”