Aesop's fables (1687) | ||
147
FAB. LXXIII. The Birth of the Mountains.
The Mountaine grones and some prodigious birthThe wondering Crowd expect her to bring forth,
A second Alps at least, her time being come,
A litle Mouse starts from her teeming Wombe.
Morall
Our most aspiring hopes abortive are,And fall like Towers whose Bases are the air.
Aesop's fables (1687) | ||