The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
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 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
THE MONKEY AND BEE.
A FABLE.
TO A YOUNG AUTHOR.
The bard who'd wish to merit bays,
Should shut his ears when asses praise;
And from the real judge alone,
Expect a halter or a throne.
Should shut his ears when asses praise;
And from the real judge alone,
Expect a halter or a throne.
A Monkey who, in leisure hours,
Was wondrous fond of herbs and flow'rs,
(For once he'd worn a gard'ner's chain,
But wander'd to his woods again,)
Travers'd the banks; the mountain's brow,
The lonely wilds, the valley low;
Collecting, as along he hies,
Flow'rs of unnumber'd tint and size,
Till hid beneath the lovely spoil,
He onward stalk'd with cheerful toil,
Thus chatting; ‘Now, I'll shine alone,
I'll have a garden of my own.’
Was wondrous fond of herbs and flow'rs,
(For once he'd worn a gard'ner's chain,
But wander'd to his woods again,)
Travers'd the banks; the mountain's brow,
The lonely wilds, the valley low;
Collecting, as along he hies,
Flow'rs of unnumber'd tint and size,
Till hid beneath the lovely spoil,
He onward stalk'd with cheerful toil,
Thus chatting; ‘Now, I'll shine alone,
I'll have a garden of my own.’
A spot he plans, to show his parts,
Scratches the soil, the blooms inserts;
Here stuck a rose, there plac'd a pink,
With various flowers stuffs ev'ry chink;
Torn branches form his spreading shrubs,
O'ertopt with stately shepherds clubs;
Long ragged stones roll'd on the border,
All placed sans root, or taste, or order,
Scratches the soil, the blooms inserts;
Here stuck a rose, there plac'd a pink,
With various flowers stuffs ev'ry chink;
Torn branches form his spreading shrubs,
O'ertopt with stately shepherds clubs;
Long ragged stones roll'd on the border,
All placed sans root, or taste, or order,
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Around him throng'd the mimic crew,
Amaz'd at the appearance new;
Survey'd the shrubs, the nodding flow'rs,
And, struck with wonder at his pow'rs,
Pronounced him, with applauding gape,
A most expert, ingenious Ape!
‘Knew man the genius you inherit,
Unbounded fame would crown your merit.’
He proudly bow'd, approv'd their taste,
And for the town prepares in haste;
When now, amid the ragged ranks,
A Bee appear'd, with searching shanks;
From bloom to bloom she rov'd alone,
With hurrying flight, and solemn drone;
Pug saw; and proud of such a guest,
Exclaim'd, ‘Say friend, did such a feast
E'er bless thy search? Here welcome stray;
Fresh sweets shall load thee ev'ry day;
'Twas I that rear'd them—all is mine;
I bore the toil, the bliss be thine.’
‘Conceited fool! the Bee reply'd,
Those pilfer'd, rootless blooms I've try'd;
Nor bliss, nor sweets, repaid my pains,
Of these as void as thou'rt of brains.’
She spoke; the scorching noontide came,
The garden with'ring, sunk his fame.
Amaz'd at the appearance new;
Survey'd the shrubs, the nodding flow'rs,
And, struck with wonder at his pow'rs,
Pronounced him, with applauding gape,
A most expert, ingenious Ape!
‘Knew man the genius you inherit,
Unbounded fame would crown your merit.’
He proudly bow'd, approv'd their taste,
And for the town prepares in haste;
When now, amid the ragged ranks,
A Bee appear'd, with searching shanks;
From bloom to bloom she rov'd alone,
With hurrying flight, and solemn drone;
Pug saw; and proud of such a guest,
Exclaim'd, ‘Say friend, did such a feast
E'er bless thy search? Here welcome stray;
Fresh sweets shall load thee ev'ry day;
'Twas I that rear'd them—all is mine;
I bore the toil, the bliss be thine.’
‘Conceited fool! the Bee reply'd,
Those pilfer'd, rootless blooms I've try'd;
Nor bliss, nor sweets, repaid my pains,
Of these as void as thou'rt of brains.’
She spoke; the scorching noontide came,
The garden with'ring, sunk his fame.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |