The Turkey and the Ant

Moral: No Moral. Suggest us a moral of this fable in comment section.
We blame the mote that dims the eye
Of other men, whose faults we spy;
But we ignore the beam that lies
With stronger strain in one’s own eyes.
A turkey, who grew dull at home,
Resolved in the wild woods to roam;
Wearied she was of barn−door food,
Therefore she chuckled round her brood,
And said, “My little ones, now follow;
We’ll go and dine in yonder hollow.”
They first upon an ant−hill fell—
Myriads of negro−ants, pell−mell—
“O gobble, gobble—here’s a treat!
Emmets are most delicious meat;
Spare not, spare not. How blest were we,
Could we here live from poulterers free!
Accursèd man on turkeys preys,
Christmas to us no holy−days;
When with the oyster−sauce and chine
We roast that aldermen may dine.
They call us ‘alderman in chains,’
With sausages—the stupid swains!
Ah! gluttony is sure the first
Of all the seven sins—the worst!
I’d choke mankind, had I the power,
From peasant’s hut to lordly bower.”
An ant, who on a neighbouring beech
Had climbed the trunk beyond her reach,
Thus said to her: “You turkey−hen,
What right have you to rail on men?
You nor compunction know nor feel,
But gobble nations at a meal!”

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