On this important expedition—
But fearing his researches would be vain—
The sage departed:
Revolving deeply his forlorn condition,
He slowly mused along a narrow lane;
When on a sudden—unawares—
A nose met his:—it was the Bear's!
With fright he started.
Fear is a common feeling: he that wise is,
Although his fright be great, his fear disguises.
Prudence suggested—"Stand your ground;
'Tis hard to turn, and harder still to dash on."
Prudence prevails.
'Twixt kindred minds a sympathy is found
Which lights up oft at sight a tender passion.
Where sexes are of different kind;
And oft 'twill ties of friendship bind
Between two males:
These magic signs our hermits, at a glance, see:
Each found he strongly pleased the other's fancy.
Bruin at compliments was awkward,
But was not long his sentiments in telling—
"Old man, I like you!"
The man replied, "Fair sir, you need not walk hard,
In half an hour you'll reach my humble dwelling.
I've milk, and various sorts of fruit,
If any should your palate suit,
Take what may strike you;
On me it will confer the highest pleasure
To spread before you all my garden's treasure."
On jogged the human Hermit with the Bear,
Like smoking Germans, few words interlarding;
Though little said,
Finding their tempers suited to a hair,
They grew firm friends before they reached the garden.
Each took his task, their moods the same,
One dug, the other hunted game,
And often sped;
And Bruin, o'er his friend a strict watch keeping,
Chased off the flies that haunted him when sleeping.
One afternoon, as in the sun
The weary Hermit took his usual nap,
And at his post
The faithful Bear his daily work begun,
Giving full many a brush and gentle slap,
With a light whisp of herbs sweet-scented,
And thus the teasing flies prevented,
That buzzing host,
From fixing on his sleeping patron's visage,
Sunk in the deep repose so fit for his age.
One blue-bottle his care defied;
No place could please him but the old man's nose,
Quite unabashed.
The Bear, provoked, no means would leave untried;
At last, a vigorous, certain mode, he chose:
Extending wide his heavy paw,
And thrusting hard each crooked claw,
The fly was smashed:
But his poor patron's face, so roughly patted,
All streamed with blood, and smooth his nose was flatted.
The Bear sneaked off to humble distance,
Seeing the damage he had done his friend;
Who raged with smart.
But calling in philosophy's assistance,
Anger, he thought, his wounds would never mend,
So coolly said, "Farewell, friend Bruin!
Since you have laid my face in ruin,
'Tis time to part."
MORAL.
All those must such mishaps expect to share,
Who, for a friend, think fit to take a Bear.