The Lion Going to War
The Lion had an enterprise in hand;
Held a war-council, sent his provost-marshal,
And gave the animals a call impartial—
Each, in his way, to serve his high command.
The Elephant should carry on his back
The tools of war, the mighty public pack,
And fight in elephantine way and form;
The Bear should hold himself prepared to storm;
The Fox all secret stratagems should fix;
The Monkey should amuse the foe by tricks.
"Dismiss," said one, "the blockhead Asses,
And Hares, too cowardly and fleet."
"No," said the King; "I use all classes;
Without their aid my force were incomplete.
The Ass shall be our trumpeter, to scare
Our enemy. And then the nimble Hare
Our royal bulletins shall homeward bear."
A monarch provident and wise
Will hold his subjects all of consequence,
And know in each what talent lies.
There's nothing useless to a man of sense.
The Ass and the Lap-dog
One's native talent from its course
Cannot be turned aside by force;
But poorly apes the country clown
The polish'd manners of the town.
Their Maker chooses but a few
With power of pleasing to imbue;
Where wisely leave it we, the mass,
Unlike a certain fabled Ass,
That thought to gain his master's blessing
By jumping on him and caressing.
"What!" said the Donkey in his heart;
"Ought it to be that Puppy's part
To lead his useless life
In full companionship
With master and his wife,
While I must bear the whip?
What doth the Cur a kiss to draw
Forsooth, he only gives his paw!
If that is all there needs to please,
I'll do the thing myself, with ease."
Possess'd with this bright notion—
His master sitting on his chair,
At leisure in the open air—
He ambled up, with awkward motion,
And put his talents to the proof;
Upraised his bruised and batter'd hoof,
And, with an amiable mien,
His master patted on the chin,
The action gracing with a word—
The fondest bray that e'er was heard!
Oh, such caressing was there ever?
Or melody with such a quaver?
"Ho! Martin! here! a club, a club bring!"
Out cried the master, sore offended.
So Martin gave the Ass a drubbing—
And so the comedy was ended.
The Hare and the Partridge
A field in common share
A Partridge and a Hare,
And live in peaceful state,
Till, woeful to relate!
The hunters mingled cry
Compels the Hare to fly.
He hurries to his fort,
And spoils almost the sport
By faulting every hound
That yelps upon the ground.
At last his reeking heat
Betrays his snug retreat.
Old Tray, with philosophic nose,
Snuffs carefully, and grows
So certain, that he cries,
"The Hare is here; bow wow!"
And veteran Ranger now—
The dog that never lies—
"The Hare is gone," replies.
Alas! poor, wretched Hare,
Back comes he to his lair,
To meet destruction there!
The Partridge, void of fear,
Begins her friend to jeer:—
"You bragg'd of being fleet;
How serve you, now, your feet?"
Scarce has she ceased to speak—
The laugh yet in her beak—
When comes her turn to die,
From which she could not fly.
She thought her wings, indeed,
Enough for every need;
But in her laugh and talk,
Forgot the cruel hawk!
The Weasel in the Granary
A Weasel through a hole contrived to squeeze,
(She was recovering from disease),
Which led her to a farmer's hoard.
There lodged, her wasted form she cherish'd;
Heaven knows the lard and victuals stored
That by her gnawing perish'd!
Of which the consequence
Was sudden corpulence.
A week or so was past,
When having fully broken fast,
A noise she heard, and hurried
To find the hole by which she came,
And seem'd to find it not the same;
So round she ran, most sadly flurried;
And, coming back, thrust out her head,
Which, sticking there, she said,
"This is the hole, there can't be blunder:
What makes it now so small, I wonder,
Where, but the other day, I pass'd with ease?"
A Rat her trouble sees,
And cries, "But with an emptier belly;
You entered lean, and lean must sally."
The Wolf Turned Shepherd