The Kite and the Nightingale
A noted thief, the kite,
Had set a neighbourhood in fright,
And raised the clamorous noise
Of all the village boys,
When, by misfortune,—sad to say,—
A nightingale fell in his way.
Book 9
The Treasure and the Two Men
A man whose credit failed, and what was worse,
Who lodged the devil in his purse,—
That is to say, lodged nothing there,—
By self-suspension in the air
Concluded his accounts to square,
Since, should he not, he understood,
The Husband, the Wife, and the Thief
A man that loved,—and loved his wife,—
Still led an almost joyless life.
No tender look, nor gracious word,
Nor smile, that, coming from a bride,
Its object would have deified,
Ever told her doting lord
Jupiter and the Passenger
How danger would the gods enrich,
If we the vows remembered which
It drives us to! But, danger past,
Kind Providence is paid the last.
No earthly debt is treated so.
The Wax-Candle
From bowers of gods 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 robbed these daughters of the sky,
The Mouse Changed into a Maid
A mouse once from an owl’s beak fell;
I had not have picked it up, I wis;
A Brahmin did it: very well;
Each country has its prejudice.
The mouse, indeed, was sadly bruised.