The Works of John Hall-Stevenson ... Corrected and Enlarged. With Several Original Poems, Now First Printed, and Explanatory Notes. In Three Volumes |
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FABLE III. The DUCKLINGS and the wise birds.
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 | The Works of John Hall-Stevenson |  |
58
FABLE III. The DUCKLINGS and the wise birds.
A hen one evening, to enjoy the cool,Was walking with a brood of Ducklings callow,
Just like a mistress of a boarding-school,
With misses green and yellow.
As she was tutoring and schooling
This bird for loitering, and that for fooling,
Behold a fish-pond so alluring,
That, spite of her remonstrances and cackle,
They ventur'd their whole stock without ensuring,
Trusting to their oars and tackle.
The Hen kept scolding like a drab,
Cursing her rebellious race;
We are not thy children, cried a pert young Squab,
If we were Chickens we shou'd have more grace;
On nature we depend,
Our course she steers,
Nature's a safer guide, and better friend
Than any Dotard's fears.
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Lifted its venerable head,
A college and sequester'd bower,
Where Owls for ages had been bred;
An old professor, a great clerk,
Taught them their talents to display,
To keep their eyes wide open in the dark,
And shut them in the face of day.
To think abstractedly, to reason deep,
And to declaim, till all the world's asleep.
These students from the tower saw our young folks,
Our bold Adventurers, under sail;
They heard their clamorous mirth and jokes,
And heard their nurse's fruitless wail.
Observe, say's one more learned than the rest,
These birds by instinct know the season,
To sail, to eat, to go to rest,
Just as we know by argument and reason.
We know from reason and experience both,
We see it every hour;
That Governors are loth
To part with power
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In such a fright,
Undoubtedly affects that fear,
To keep her pupils always in her sight.
From the same principle, for the same end,
Our Tutor keeps us all thus penn'd:
Preaching that we must not pretend to fly,
We are too weak; it is too soon;
This I'll demonstrate is a lie,
As clear as the sun at noon.
Feet, said the subtle Owl,
Are not the things
That constitute the essence of a fowl,
So much as wings.
Whatever is essential to our make
We soonest learn, and seldomest mistake.
Hence that pathetic prayer, that tender call,
By which we get our wants dispatch'd,
Is so essential above all,
That we all speak the moment we are hatch'd.
Nature, benevolent and wise,
Opens our mouths much sooner than our eyes.
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Our wings and pinions should be ready
Long time before our heads and feet
Are firm and steady.
Therefore 'twill follow like a chain,
That as we walk, you must confess,
With little giddiness and pain,
If we attempt it, we must fly with less.
This reasoning philosophic wight
Convinc'd his brethren one and all:
With one accord they took their flight,
And fatal and untimely was their fall.
None of them reason'd any more,
The young logicians lay like wrecks,
Drown'd in the pond or scatter'd on the shore,
With mangled limbs and broken necks.
Bred in a court or some gay city,
The Ducklings are those thoughtless spritely fools.
O Cambridge, is it not a pity,
Strangers to thee, and to thy schools!
| The Works of John Hall-Stevenson | |