Part 40 (2/2)

No animal in everything can s.h.i.+ne.

By just part.i.tion of our gifts divine, Each has its full and proper share.

Among the birds that cleave the air The hawk's a swift, the eagle is a brave one, For omens serves the hoa.r.s.e old raven, The rook's of coming ills the prophet; And if there's any discontent, I've heard not of it.

Cease, then, your envious complaint; Or I, instead of making up your lack, Will take your boasted plumage from your back.”

The Eagle and the Beetle

John Rabbit, by Dame Eagle chased, Was making for his hole in haste, When, on his way, he met a Beetle's burrow.

I leave you all to think If such a little c.h.i.n.k Could to a rabbit give protection thorough; But, since no better could be got, John Rabbit, there was fain to squat.

Of course, in an asylum so absurd, John felt ere long the talons of the bird.

But first the Beetle, interceding, cried, ”Great queen of birds, it cannot be denied That, maugre my protection, you can bear My trembling guest, John Rabbit, through the air, But do not give me such affront, I pray; And since he craves your grace, In pity of his case, Grant him his life, or take us both away; For he's my gossip, friend and neighbour.”

In vain the Beetle's friendly labour; The Eagle clutched her prey without reply, And as she flapped her vasty wings to fly, Struck down our orator and stilled him-- The wonder is she hadn't killed him.

The Beetle soon, of sweet revenge in quest Flew to the old, gnarled mountain oak, Which proudly bore that haughty Eagle's nest.

And while the bird was gone, Her eggs, her cherished eggs, he broke, Not sparing one.

Returning from her flight, the Eagle's cry Of rage and bitter anguish filled the sky, But, by excess of pa.s.sion blind, Her enemy she failed to find.

Her wrath in vain, that year it was her fate To live a mourning mother, desolate.

The next, she built a loftier nest; 'twas vain; The Beetle found and dashed her eggs again.

John Rabbit's death was thus avenged anew.

The second mourning for her murdered brood Was such that through the giant mountain wood, For six long months, the sleepless echo flew.

The bird, once Ganymede, now made Her prayer to Jupiter for aid; And, laying them within his G.o.ds.h.i.+p's lap, She thought her eggs now safe from all mishap; The G.o.d his own could not but make them-- No wretch would venture there to break them.

And no one did. Their enemy, this time, Upsoaring to a place sublime, Let fall upon his royal robes some dirt, Which Jove just shaking, with a sudden flirt, Threw out the eggs, no one knows whither.

When Jupiter informed her how th' event Occurred by purest accident, The Eagle raved; there was no reasoning with her; She gave out threats of leaving court, To make the desert her resort, And other brav'ries of this sort.

Poor Jupiter in silence heard The uproar of his favourite bird.

Before his throne the Beetle now appeared, And by a clear complaint the mystery cleared.

The G.o.d p.r.o.nounced the Eagle in the wrong.

But still, their hatred was so old and strong, These enemies could not be reconciled; And, that the general peace might not be spoiled-- The best that he could do--the G.o.d arranged That thence the Eagle's pairing should be changed, To come when Beetle folks are only found Concealed and dormant under ground.

FABLES FROM THE SPANISH

OF

CARLOS YRIARTE*

”_As the impressions made upon a new vessel are not easily to be effaced, so here youth are taught prudence through the allurement of fable._”

*Translated by Richard Andrew

FABLES FROM THE SPANISH

The Bee and the Cuckoo

A Cuckoo, near a hive, one day, Was chaunting in his usual way, When to the door the Queen-bee ran, And, humming angrily, began:

”Do cease that tuneless song I hear-- How can we work while thou art near?

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