Part 3 (1/2)

The Wax-Candle.

From bowers of G.o.ds the bees came down to man.

On Mount Hymettus, first, they say, They made their home, and stored away The treasures which the zephyrs fan.

When men had robb'd these daughters of the sky, And left their palaces of nectar dry,-- Or, in English as the thing's explain'd, When hives were of their honey drain'd-- The spoilers 'gan the wax to handle, And fas.h.i.+on'd from it many a candle.

Of these, one, seeing clay, made brick by fire, Remain uninjured by the teeth of time, Was kindled into great desire For immortality sublime.

And so this new Empedocles Upon the blazing pile one sees, Self-doom'd by purest folly To fate so melancholy.

The candle lack'd philosophy: All things are made diverse to be.

To wander from our destined tracks-- There cannot be a vainer wish; But this Empedocles of wax, That melted in chafing-dish Was truly not a greater fool Than he of whom we read at school.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WAX-CANDLE.]

The Shepherd and his Flock.

”What! shall I lose them one by one, This stupid coward throng?

And never shall the wolf have done?

They were at least a thousand strong, But still they've let poor Robin fall a prey!

Ah, woe's the day!

Poor Robin Wether lying dead!

He follow'd for a bit of bread His master through the crowded city, And would have follow'd, had he led, Around the world. Oh! what a pity!

My pipe, and even step, he knew; To meet me when I came, he flew; In hedge-row shade we napp'd together; Alas, alas, my Robin Wether!”

When w.i.l.l.y thus had duly said His eulogy upon the dead, And unto everlasting fame Consign'd poor Robin Wether's name, He then harangued the flock at large, From proud old chieftain rams Down to the smallest lambs, Addressing them this weighty charge,-- Against the wolf, as one, to stand, In firm, united, fearless band, By which they might expel him from their land.

Upon their faith, they would not flinch, They promised him, a single inch.

”We'll choke,” said they, ”the murderous glutton Who robb'd us of our Robin Mutton.”

Their lives they pledged against the beast, And w.i.l.l.y gave them all a feast.

But evil Fate, than Phoebus faster, Ere night had brought a new disaster: A wolf there came. By nature's law, The total flock were prompt to run; And yet 'twas not the wolf they saw, But shadow of him from the setting sun.

_Harangue a craven soldiery,_ _What heroes they will seem to be!_ _But let them snuff the smoke of battle,_ _Or even hear the ramrods rattle,_ _Adieu to all their boast and mettle:_ _Your own example will be vain,_ _And exhortations, to retain_ _The timid cattle._

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SHEPHERD AND HIS FLOCK.]

The Tortoise and the Two Ducks.

A light-brain'd tortoise, anciently, Tired of her hole, the world would see.

p.r.o.ne are all such, self-banish'd, to roam-- p.r.o.ne are all cripples to abhor their home.

Two ducks, to whom the gossip told The secret of her purpose bold, Profess'd to have the means whereby They could her wishes gratify.

”Our boundless road,” said they, ”behold!

It is the open air; And through it we will bear You safe o'er land and ocean.