 | Miscellaneous poems |  |
130
FABLE.
“Write a poem,” said Julia, “for me to peruse.”
“I will, my dear girl, if the subject you'll choose;
Or if you'll press into my service the Muse;
For of late she has left me.
Shall I write upon love?” “No, love is but folly.”
“On the sorrows of life?” “No! that's melancholy!”
“On its pleasures?” “Ah, yes, tell me where I may find them;
I have sought them in vain, but I now have resign'd them;
Time of hope has bereft me.
“I will, my dear girl, if the subject you'll choose;
Or if you'll press into my service the Muse;
For of late she has left me.
Shall I write upon love?” “No, love is but folly.”
“On the sorrows of life?” “No! that's melancholy!”
“On its pleasures?” “Ah, yes, tell me where I may find them;
I have sought them in vain, but I now have resign'd them;
Time of hope has bereft me.
“Write, write—let me see; on these candlesticks write.”
“Pshaw! I can't write on those.” “Well, then let the pale light
Be the subject; it serves to enliven the night,
But oft will deceive us;
And like friends, whom in fortune's gay sunshine we know,
Having blazed in our service an hour or two,
When night quick advancing, throws round us its shade,
Grow languid, and when we may most want their aid,
Will vanish, and leave us.”
“Pshaw! I can't write on those.” “Well, then let the pale light
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But oft will deceive us;
And like friends, whom in fortune's gay sunshine we know,
Having blazed in our service an hour or two,
When night quick advancing, throws round us its shade,
Grow languid, and when we may most want their aid,
Will vanish, and leave us.”
In days of romance, when, as Fabulists teach,
Trees, plants, stocks, and stones had the pow'r of speech;
When foxes could flatter, and grave owls could preach;
In a snug little dwelling,
By the parlour fire side, on a cold winter's night;
A lamp and a candle emitted their light;
'Twas a fair tall mould candle; the lamp, when fill'd brimming,
Would burn twenty hours without any trimming;
Each in merit excelling.
Trees, plants, stocks, and stones had the pow'r of speech;
When foxes could flatter, and grave owls could preach;
In a snug little dwelling,
By the parlour fire side, on a cold winter's night;
A lamp and a candle emitted their light;
'Twas a fair tall mould candle; the lamp, when fill'd brimming,
Would burn twenty hours without any trimming;
Each in merit excelling.
132
The candle was vain of her shape and her stature,
And said to the lamp, “Insignificant creature,
“Pray dost thou presume, with thy foul smoky nature,
“To vie with my beauty?
“Keep your distance, vile thing; in some kitchen immure you;
“Your smell is offensive, I cannot endure you;
“Behold my fine form, how tall, slender, and white,
“And see round my head what a full blaze of light;
“Away! learn your duty.”
And said to the lamp, “Insignificant creature,
“Pray dost thou presume, with thy foul smoky nature,
“To vie with my beauty?
“Keep your distance, vile thing; in some kitchen immure you;
“Your smell is offensive, I cannot endure you;
“Behold my fine form, how tall, slender, and white,
“And see round my head what a full blaze of light;
“Away! learn your duty.”
“Vain fool,” quoth the lamp, “though so brilliant and gay,
“Know you not that bright flame only burns to decay
“The delicate form you're so proud to display?
“Soon your reign will be past.
“Like the passions of youth, your evanescent fire,
“Having wasted your form, will grow faint and expire;
“While, like reason's pure radiance, my steadier flame,
“Though paler, unchanging and ever the same
“Through a long night will last.”
“Know you not that bright flame only burns to decay
“The delicate form you're so proud to display?
“Soon your reign will be past.
“Like the passions of youth, your evanescent fire,
“Having wasted your form, will grow faint and expire;
“While, like reason's pure radiance, my steadier flame,
“Though paler, unchanging and ever the same
“Through a long night will last.”
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