CXLIX THE LION AND THE CUB A lion cub, of sordid mind, Avoided all the lion kind; Fond of applause, he sought the feasts With asses all his time he spent, He caught their manners, looks, and airs; If e'er his Highness meant a joke, Elate with flattery and conceit, ‘How weak is pride,' returns the sire : 'All fools are vain when fools admire ! But know, what stupid asses prize, Lions and noble beasts despise.' 7. Gay CL THE SNAIL To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wall, Together. Within that house secure he hides, Of weather. Give but his horns the slightest touch, Where'er he dwells, he dwells alone, Whole treasure Thus hermit-like his life he leads, The faster. Who seeks him must be worse than blind, (He and his house are so combined,) If, finding it, he fails to find Its master. V. Bourne CLI THE COLUBRIAD Close by the threshold of a door nail'd fast, Not much concern'd to know what they did there, Caused me to stop, and to exclaim, 'What's this?' A viper, long as Count de Grasse's queue. Forth from his head his forked tongue he throws, Who having never seen, in field or house, Her whisker'd face, she asked him, 'Who are you? And, turning up the leaves and shrubs around, For long ere now it should have been rehearsed, CLII THE PRIEST AND THE MULBERRYTREE Did you hear of the curate who mounted his mare, And merrily trotted along to the fair? Of creature more tractable none ever heard, In the height of her speed she would stop at a word; But again with a word, when the curate said, Hey, She put forth her mettle and gallop'd away. As near to the gates of the city he rode, The curate was hungry and thirsty to boot; He shrunk from the thorns, though he long'd for the fruit; With a word he arrested his courser's keen speed, And he stood up erect on the back of his steed; On the saddle he stood while the creature stood still, And he gather'd the fruit till he took his good fill. 'Sure never,' he thought, 'was a creature so rare, So docile, so true, as my excellent mare; Lo, here now I stand,' and he gazed all around, 'As safe and as steady as if on the ground; Yet how had it been, if some traveller this way, Had, dreaming no mischief, but chanced to cry, Hey?' He stood with his head in the mulberry-tree, And he spoke out aloud in his fond reverie ; At the sound of the word the good mare made a push, And down went the priest in the wild-briar bush. CLIII THE PRIDE OF YOUTH Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush Singing so rarely. X |