684 LESSONS FOK THE LITEHATI. 



The very wrens did not despair 



Of gaining some distinction there. 



Such noisy persevering stavers, 



Such shakes, and cadences, and quavers, 



Had never in the woods resounded 



Since first the universe was founded. 



On went they, chirping, whistling, cawing, 



When an authoritative pshawing 



On the discordant conclave broke 



Proceeding from a hollow oak, 



And an old owl, who sat within it, 



Begged their attention for a minute. 



" Trust me," he said, "your noisy strain 



Loud as it is, is all in vain. 



The linnet and the lark are known 



Each for a music of his own ; 



But, can your vanity suppose 



That such as you are, wrens and crows ! 



Can make your voiceless throats avail 



To warble like the nightingale. 



Merely because by night you sing, 



And try to mock his quavering ? 



Twit, chirp, and whistle as you will 



His tuneful voice is wanting still. 



Then stop these songs of yours, I pray, 



Or if you must sing, sing by day; 



But do not with this visitation 



Disturb my hour of meditation." 



The birds abashed, agreed to cease, 



Went home, and left the owl in peace. 



Oh ! that as readily as those 

 Our literary wrens and crows 

 Would to the censor's strictures yield, 

 And leave the lyre they cannot wield ! 

 Lo, when a mighty poet dies, 

 What crowds of poetasters rise, 

 Who think to claim his mantle, while 

 They copy servilely his style ! 

 Is there no friendly Meritor near 

 This truth to whisper in their ear, 

 " Unless the muse inspires your strain 

 You twit and whistle all in vain ?" 



THE LION, THE EAGLE, AND THE BAT. 



THE lion and the eagle met 

 In solemn conference, to set 

 Some matters right which crossed th' intents 

 Of their respective governments. 

 Against the bat the eagle laid 

 A long and heavy charge, and said, 

 " Why should this nondescript create 

 Misunderstandings in the state ? 

 Oft 'midst my subjects he has come 

 And claimed, as if by right, a home. 

 A thousand arguments he brings, 

 And, above all, he shews his wings, 

 But when he chooses thus he'll speak, 

 ' Mine is a snout, and not a beak ; 



