 | A Collection of Original Poems |  |
The Crows, Starling, and Husbandman.
A Fable.
A flight of crows agreed to meet,
And stock a farmer's field of wheat:
The day was fix'd—the hour was set—
And punctually, 'tis said, they met:
With dusky swarms the ground was spread,
And daintily the miscreants fed;
So nice the rav'nous crew was grown,
Carrion, forsooth, would not go down—
Besides, to ev'ry living creature,
(Such the corruption of their nature)
The stolen pleasure's still the sweeter.
And stock a farmer's field of wheat:
The day was fix'd—the hour was set—
And punctually, 'tis said, they met:
With dusky swarms the ground was spread,
And daintily the miscreants fed;
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Carrion, forsooth, would not go down—
Besides, to ev'ry living creature,
(Such the corruption of their nature)
The stolen pleasure's still the sweeter.
But tho' full well the sweets they knew,
They rightly judg'd the sour too;
And that the feast, how rich soe'er,
Haply, might not be bought too dear,
Watchful around they threw their eyes,
Thus to prevent the least surprize.
They rightly judg'd the sour too;
And that the feast, how rich soe'er,
Haply, might not be bought too dear,
Watchful around they threw their eyes,
Thus to prevent the least surprize.
'Twas wisely done—and well it far'd—
But fools are never on their guard;
A starling from the chimney top,
A chatt'ring, noisy, empty fop,
Who dearly lov'd a dainty bit,
And much more stomach had than wit,
Took wing, and flew with eager haste,
Joyous to share the rich repast;
When Hodge, who long had watch'd in vain,
To vindicate his plunder'd grain,
Let fly from covert bush a volley,
That dearly paid him for his folly.
But fools are never on their guard;
A starling from the chimney top,
A chatt'ring, noisy, empty fop,
Who dearly lov'd a dainty bit,
And much more stomach had than wit,
Took wing, and flew with eager haste,
Joyous to share the rich repast;
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To vindicate his plunder'd grain,
Let fly from covert bush a volley,
That dearly paid him for his folly.
| A Collection of Original Poems | |