Aesop, in Rhyme, Aesop [book club recommendations .TXT] 📗
- Author: Aesop
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His feet entangled in the wool,
The shepherd seiz'd the helpless fool.
In wantonness a shepherd's boy
Alarm'd the neighbor's with his cry;
"The wolf! the wolf!" And when they came,
Of their lost labor made his game.
At last the wolf when there indeed,
His real cries they did not heed;
He and his flock a prey were made,
And for his lies he dearly paid.
Those who are known to have deceiv'd,
When they speak truth, are not believ'd.
Fashions and modes we often see,
Made to conceal deformity:
Those to whom nature has been kind,
Should leave such fopperies behind.
A fox who in a trap was taken,
Resign'd his brush to save his bacon.
Ashamed that all the world should know
His cunning had been cheated so,
To an assembly of the nation
He made the following oration:
"I oft have thought the tails we wear
A troublesome appendage are;
Where's their utility, I pray?
They serve but to obstruct our way.
Nor ornamental do I find,
To drag this ponderous length behind.
For my part, without more debate,
I move our tails we amputate."
"Please, sir, to show yourself behind,"
(Says one to smoke the jest inclin'd,
And who discovered what it was)
"We there perhaps shall see the cause,
Ere we your prudent counsel take,
Why you this curious motion make?"
His bare posteriors when they found,
Loud laughter shook the benches round;
Nor could the fox without a tail
To introduce the mode prevail.
Any partition better make,
Than all the hungry law should take.
By the sea side two travellers found
A fine large oyster on the ground;
His claim each obstinately lays:
"I saw it first," one eager says;
"I pick'd it up," the other cries;
"Mine"—"Mine is certainly the prize."
They talk'd as usual, loud and long;
And more they reason'd, more were wrong;
Till they a neighboring lawyer see
Passing, and mutually agree
To take him for their referee.
With legal dignity of face,
He heard them both relate the case;
"Your claims are good," then gravely said,
"And a brave lawsuit would have made
Which to prefer I cannot tell,
So each of you must take a shell;
And, as the oyster is but one,
That I myself will swallow down;
To stink it otherwise had lain,
And all your cash been spent in vain;
You're cheaply off; go home content;
And faith the fish was excellent."
A dog his master so deceiv'd,
He was the best of curs believ'd.
The flock was trusted to his care,
Whene'er the shepherd was not there.
And in the house, a favored guest,
He always fed upon the best.
The treacherous guard his charge betray'd
And on the sheep in secret prey'd.
The master, when the crime was prov'd,
With double indignation mov'd,
About his neck the halter tied
Himself: the dog for mercy cried;
"You let the wolf escape," he said,
"Who much more slaughter oft has made."
"Wretch!" says the man, "the wolf declares
Hostility, and boldly dares;
He has no confidence abused:
But, coward, thou my trust hast used:
Against myself! and on this tree
Without delay shalt hanged be."
The law still lends the readiest aid,
When well her ministers are paid.
A countryman, by power oppress'd,
Seeking to have his wrongs redress'd,
Oft to the justice went in vain;
Admittance he could ne'er obtain,
But still was bid again to come;
"Unwell"—"engag'd"—or "not home!"
The wily rustic took a kid
One day, and in a basket hid;
And when he to the house drew near,
Began to pinch him by the ear,
So that the porter, from the hall,
Might hear the little fatling squall;
The man his master's mind who knew,
Open'd the door and let him through.
The shepherd, laughing as he pass'd,
Says to his kid, "Thy cries at last
An audience for my wrongs obtain;
Thy flesh, perhaps, redress will gain."
The world applauds the lucky hit,
When it beholds the biter bit.
A treach'rous fox invited down
A cock, who on a tree had flown.
"Do you not know, my friend," says he,
"Bird, beast, fish, reptile, man agree,
To live henceforth in amity?
Come down and celebrate the day."
"Troth," quoth the cock, "you truly say;
For hounds I see come o'er the dell,
With open mouths, the news to tell."
"Adieu," says Ren. "'Tis best to go;
Those dogs the treaty may not know."
Who kind assistance give and take,
Life's arduous journey best will make.
Two men, one blind, the other lame,
To pass a ford together came.
The stream was rapid, and the way
Obliquely thwart the current lay;
To his companion says the blind,
"Yon winding road I ne'er shall find."
"Nor my poor limbs," the lame replied,
"The current's rapid force abide."
"Come," says the blind, "my loins are strong,
I'll bear you on my back along,
While you to guide me give the word;"
And thus they safely cross'd the ford.
There's in the world a cursed race,
Of nature so perverse and base,
If from the gallows you should save,
A dangerous enemy you have.
A countryman a serpent found,
Stiffen'd with frost upon the ground,
And took her home; but when the fire
Began new vigor to inspire,
Swelling her neck with angry eyes,
She fills the cot with hissing cries.
The rustic then his axe did take,
"Is this then the return you make?
Is this your gratitude?" he said,
And knock'd the reptile on the head.
Those who display much dash and din,
Have seldom any thing within.
A weary traveller, one day,
Cross'd o'er a river in his way;
Alarm'd to see the foaming tide
Dashing o'er rocks from side to side,
Nevertheless, his course to keep,
He ventur'd in with trembling step;
And found the water neither deep,
Nor footing bad; and got well o'er.
When he had travell'd some leagues more,
He to another river came,
That smoothly flowed, a silent stream:
This he thought easily to pass;
But ere he in the middle was,
He plunged into a gulf profound,
And for his feet no bottom found;
But, forced to swim with all his might,
Got to the shore in piteous plight.
Inveterate sin is seldom cur'd.
A wife had long a sot endur'd,
Who all his time in taverns spent,
While his affairs in ruin went.
Once as insensible he lay,
She dress'd him in a corpse's array,
And with the undertaker's aid,
Into a burying vault convey'd.
The fumes dispersed, the man awakes;
All for reality he takes.
When by the glimmering of a lamp
He saw his mansion drear and damp,
Reflecting how his life had pass'd,
A forced repentance came at last.
The wife, with suited voice and dress,
Presented an infernal mess:
"Good Trap, pray take away your meat;
I have no appetite to eat,"
He cried, "but faith I'm devilish dry:
Can't you a bowl of wine supply?"
The woman, seeing all was vain,
Restor'd him to his casks again:
Consol'd with certainty, that he
Ere long a real corpse must be.
Three sons an honest farmer had;
And it so happen'd, ne'er a lad
Could with the other two agree;
All quarrelling perpetually.
Their time in idle contest spent,
Garden and farm to ruin went;
And the good farmer and his wife
Led but a miserable life.
One day as this unhappy sire
Sat musing by his evening fire,
He saw some twigs in bundles stand,
Tied for the basket-maker's hand.
Taking up one: "My boys," says he,
"Which is the strongest, let me see;
He who this bundle breaks in twain,
The preference, and this prize shall gain,"
(Showing a pair of Sunday shoes.)
The rivals every effort use
In vain. Their utmost force when tried,
The father took the twigs untied,
And giving to them one by one,
The work immediately was done.
"Yon twigs," he says, "that broken lie,
This useful lesson may supply:
That those in amity who live,
And succor to each other give,
Double their forces to resist
Oppression, and their work assist."
Flowers which many leaves display,
In fruitless beauty fade away.
Cries one of these, with saucy sneer,
To a plain fig-tree growing near,
"How comes it, honest friend, that thou
Dost in the spring no blossoms show?"
Says he, "I keep them out of view,
For fear I should resemble you,
And in the autumn nought produce
Of permanence and solid use."
Who soon and much essay to shine,
May dread a premature decline.
A farmer of an honest fame,
One morning to his landlord came:
"Alas, my lord," he weeping said,
"Gored by my bull, your ox is dead.
What must be done?" "The case is plain,"
Replies the lord; "the creature slain,
The owner of the bull must pay;
Let it be done without delay."
"Heav'n give your worship long to live!
I hope you will a good one give,
For mine was good!" "How! your's, my friend?
Let me your story comprehend:
Your bull, you say, my ox has gored?"
"Forgive me the mistake, my lord,
In my confusion I have made;
Mine was the ox that must be paid;
But 'tis all one—what's just for me
The same must for your worship be:
I'll tell the steward what you say."
"Not yet—we'll think of it to-day.
Further inquiry must be had;
Perhaps your fences were but bad;
Perhaps—but come again to-morrow."
The honest laborer saw with sorrow,
That justice wears a different face,
When for themselves men put the case.
At play on Thames's verdant side
A school boy fell into the tide,
Where providentially there stood
A willow, bending o'er the flood.
Buoy'd on its branch, he floating lay,
The monitor pass'd by that way.
The lad entreats his life to save:
The Don replies with aspect grave,
"Sirrah, what business had you there?
How vain is all our watchful care!
You never heed a word we say;
Your disobedience you shall pay!"
"First," says the boy, "pray stretch your hand:
I'll hear you when I come to land."
This is for those, with vain parade
Who give advice, instead of aid.
A rustic bringing to the fair
An ass, that he might show him there,
Sleek and well looking let him trot;
He followed with his son on foot.
The first they met upon the road,
At our pedestrians laugh'd loud,
"Look at those two legged asses," cried,
"Who trudge on foot when they might ride!"
The father with the hint complies:
Makes the boy mount. Now other cries
Assail their ears; by graybeards blam'd;
"Sirrah, you ought to be asham'd
To ride and let your father walk!"
Again he listened to their talk.
The sire got up, the youth got down;
When passing through a country town,
At every door the mothers said,
"A murrain light on thy old head!
Hast thou no bowels for thy kind?
At least take up the lad behind."
This done they next were thus address'd:
"Two lubbers on a little beast?
They fitter are to carry him!"
Complying with this senseless whim,
Upon a pole his feet in air,
The ass they on their shoulders bear.
Now laughing shouts spread far and wide.
The ass's ligatures untied,
"Proceed, my son," then said the man:
"To please the world, do all we can,
Since 'tis impossible, you see,
To please ourselves content we'll be."
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