The Ear of Corn

Kriloff’s Original Fables
Within a dale an Ear of Corn, swaying unto the wind,
A flower in a hothouse seeing
Petted with warmth, behind
The panes in comfort, he himself still being
Exposed to moths and storms, and heat and cold,
His wrath unto the master told : ” Say, why is it that man is always so unjust,
That those, who only please his taste
-, perhaps his eyes, To them their slightest wish he ne’er denies ; But, those that are of use, bear his neglect they must?
The dale for profit thou dost trust
But see in what uncared-for state it lies ! Since that in earth thou castest here the seed,
Hast thou once thought of raising, for our need,
A roof of glass, once weeded, heated us, Or come our drought with water sweet to feed ? No, we are left to chance,—not worth the fuss
But all the while thy flowers live —Though they to thee no food nor riches give

Not thrown, like us, aside upon a field, But sheltered, under glass, perfume at ease to yield.
Ah, if we had but felt thy care, and not thy scorn, Thou wouldst have next year told Of profits hundredfold,
And to the city sent a caravan of corn. Bethink thee well, let us to the hothouse now be borne.”
” My friend,” the master answer made,
” No heed unto my pains canst thou have paid,
My chiefest care hath ever been for you, The labour that it cost, if thou but knew,
To clear the wood, manure for you the soil
There was no end to all my varied toil. But hours to waste in chattering I have few,
And where’s the good ? Address thy prayers for rain and wind, to heaven ; For, following thy advice, I surely should
Without a flower be left, without a loaf to leaven.”
How often farmers—discontented men !

A simple soldier, or a citizen, That raked together have a fortune small,
Grumbling upon their own profession fall, For they, though blessed by fate, themselves neglected