LESSONS FOR THE LITERATI. 683 



THE MOUSE AND THE CAT. 



THAT JEsop had a brilliant brain ; 

 How rich his moralizing strain ! 

 What life-drawn incidents we note 

 What happy wit, in all he wrote ! 

 Perhaps 'twill be no mispent time 

 To put a tale of his in rhyme. 

 " Yes/' said a sapient mouse, one day, 

 " Whate'er philosophers may say, 

 Fidelity must be confess'd 

 To be of all the virtues best, 

 And 'tis because his faith I know, 

 I love the honest spaniel so." 

 " Ay," cried a cat, " most true most true, 

 And I possess that virtue too." 

 " You do, indeed ? if that's the case, 

 (Slinking within his hiding-place, 

 And then with caution peeping out, 

 And turning up in scorn his snout), 

 My admiration passes by, 

 It is a worthless quality." 



The attributes which many deem 

 The very best of virtues, seem 

 To sink to vices, when they grow 

 Within the bosom of a foe. 



" And now, Sir Reader, may I ask, 

 If I have well performed my task ? 

 How does the fable meet your views ? 

 Does it instruct you, and amuse." 

 <( It does indeed, throughout I find 

 The marks of Esop's mighty mind." 

 " Indeed ! I am glad you do not slight it, 

 The more, as Esop did not write it ; 

 Within my humble head it grew." 

 " The fable, then, is your's ?" " 'Tis true, 

 And since as his, it seemed so fine, 

 Please now to cut it up, as mine." 



THE OWL, AND OTHER BIRDS. 



AMID the woodlands, sad and still, 

 Soft warbled music ceased to thrill ; 

 The nightingale, the minstrel pride 

 Of sylvan solitudes, had died, 

 And left no one the birds among 

 Heir to her sorrows and- her song. 

 That such, however, was the case. 

 Seemed not to all the feathered race ; 

 For, when the sun had reached the west, 

 Instead of seeking each his nest, 

 Ambitious of a songster's fame, 

 A host of plumy rivals came, 

 And perched upon a willow-tree, 

 Scene of the late bird's melody : 

 Sparrows, and torn-tits, not a few 

 Nay, I believe, a crow or two 



