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Poems by Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb]

With Portrait engraved by E. Stodart ... in two volumes
  

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A FABLE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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76

A FABLE.

Digging amongst my turnips, one fine day,
I spied, as I upheaved, a clod of clay,
A lithe red worm—the gard'ner's special dread—
Coil'd round a promising young turnip-head.
“Ah, noisome reptile, thus thy greed is foil'd!”
I cried, and would have crush'd him as he coil'd,
When, lo! methought, this worm of aspect meek
Turn'd, and tho' counted speechless, seem'd to speak;—
“Forbear, rash fool!” (it proudly said) “nor deem
My tastes as vegetarian as they seem,
But, . . . I am blind! . . . and groping here, to-day,
A large round object barr'd me in my way,—
'Twas but thy turnip! not the thing I sought,—
The Seat of Fancy, and the Throne of Thought!
Enjoy it whilst thou may'st, in upper air,
Whilst I, in darkness, seek for daintier fare.
Patience, in time, shall sure fruition bring:—
My grandfather once feasted on a king!”