Descriptions, Stories and Fables of Animals.
WITHIN the precincts of this yard,
Each in his narrow confines barred,
Dwells every beast that can be found
On African or Indian ground.
How different was the life they led,
In those wild haunts where they were
bred,
From the tame servitude and fear,
To which proud man has doomed them
In that uneasy, close recess, Couches a sleeping lioness: That next den holds a bear; the next, A wolf, by hunger ever vexed: There, fiercer from the keeper's lashes, His teeth the fell hyena gnashes.
That creature, on whose back abound Black spots upon a yellow ground, A panther is - the fairest beast That roameth in the spacious East: He, underneath a fair outside, Does cruelty and treachery hide.
That cat-like beast, that to and fro, Restless as fire, does ever go, As if his courage did resent His limbs in such confinement pent, That should their prey in forest take, And make the Indian jungles quake, A tiger is.
Observe how sleek And glossy smooth his coat; no streak On satin ever matched the pride Of that which marks his furry hide.
How strong his muscles! he, with ease,
Upon the tallest man could seize;
In his large mouth away could bear him,
And into thousand pieces tear him:
Yet, cabined so securely here,
The smallest infant need not fear.
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.com.mm/books/content?id=GlYCAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA167&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=editions:STANFORD36105049226488&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0B0xdVnWfhyArxKyAIsHAlMpfOmw&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=852,885,12,5)
That lordly creature next to him
A lion is. Survey each limb;
Observe the texture of his claws,
The massy thickness of those jaws;
His mane, that sweeps the ground in
length
Like Samson's locks, betokening strength.
In force and swiftness he excels
Each beast that in the forest dwells:
The savage tribes him king confess
Throughout the howling wilderness.
Woe to the hapless neighborhood,
When he is pressed by want of food!
Of man, or child, or bull, or horse,
He makes his prey, such is his force.
A waste behind him he creates,
Whole villages depopulates;
Yet here, within appointed lines,
How small a grate his rage confines!
This place, methinks, resembleth well
The world itself in which we dwell.
Perils and snares on every ground,
Like these wild beasts, beset us round;
But Providence their rage restrains;
Our heavenly Keeper sets them chains;
His goodness saveth, every hour,
His darlings from the lion's power.
Look now at his odd grimaces;
Saw you e'er such comic faces?
Now like learned judge sedate,
Now with nonsense in his pate.
Look now at him. Slyly peep.
He pretends he is asleep -
Fast asleep upon his bed,
With his arm beneath his head.
Ha! he is not half asleep;
See, he slyly takes a reep!
Monkey, though your eyes are shut,
You could see this little nut!
There, the little ancient man
Cracks it quickly as he can;
Now, good-by, you funny fellow,
Nature's primest Punchinello.
3. THE LION AND THE GIRAFFE.
WOULDST thou view the lion's den?
Search afar from haunts of men,
Where the reed-encircled fountain
Oozes from the rocky mountain;
By its verdure far descried,
'Mid the desert brown and wide.
Close beside the sedgy brim,
Couchant lurks the lion grim,
Waiting, till the close of day
Brings again the destined prey.
Heedless, at the ambushed brink
The tall giraffe stoops down to drink;
Upon him straight the savage springs
With cruel joy. The desert rings
With clanging sound of desperate strife;
For the prey is strong, and strives for life;
Now plunging, tries, with frantic bound,
To shake the tyrant to the ground;
Then bursts like whirlwind o'er the waste,
In hope to 'scape by headlong haste:
While the destroyer on his prize
Rides proudly, tearing as he flies.
CAMEL, thou art good and mild,
Docile as a little child;
Thou wast made for usefulness,
Man to comfort and to bless;
Thou dost clothe him; thou dost feed
Thou dost lend to him thy speed;
And through wilds of trackless sand,
In the hot Arabian land,
Where no rock its shadow throws,
Where no cooling water flows,
Where the hot air is not stirred
For life the victim's utmost speed
Is mustered in this hour of need;
For life for life his giant might
He strains, and pours his soul in flight;
And, mad with terror, thirst, and pain,
Spurns with wild hoof the thundering
plain.
'Tis vain! The thirsty sands are drink-
ing
His streaming blood; his strength is sink-
ing;
The victor's fangs are in his veins;
His flanks are streaked with sanguine
stains;
His panting breast in foam and gore
Is bathed. He reels! His race is o'er.
He falls, and with convulsive throe
Resigns his throat to the raging foe,
Who revels 'midst his dying moans;
While, gathering round to pick his bones,
The vultures watch, in gaunt array,
Till the gorged monarch quits his prey.
By the wing of singing bird,
There thou goest, untired and meek,
Day by day, and week by week;
With thy load of precious things
Silk for merchants, gold for kings,
Pearls of Ormuz, riches rare,
Damascene, and Indian ware —
Bale on bale, and heap on heap,
Freighted like a costly ship.
And when week by week is gone,
And the traveler journeys on
REINDEER, not in fields like ours,
Full of grass and bright with flowers;
Not in pasture-dales, where glide
Ever-flowing rivers wide;
Not on hills where verdure bright
Clothes them to the topmost height,
Hast thou dwelling; nor dost thou
Feed upon the orange-bough;
Nor doth olive, nor doth vine,
Bud and bloom in land of thine.
But thy home and dwelling are
In a region bleak and bare;
In a dreary land of snow,
Where green weeds can scarcely grow;
Where the skies are gray and drear;
Where 'tis night for half the year;
Reindeer, where, unless for thee,
Human dweller could not be.
When thou wast at first designed By the great Creative Mind
With thy patience and thy speed,
With thy aid for human need,
With thy foot so formed to go
Over frozen wastes of snow-
Thou for frozen lands wast meant,
Ere the winter's frost was sent ;
And in love He sent thee forth
To thy home, the frozen north,
Where He bade the rocks produce
Bitter lichens for thy use.
Serving long, and serving hard; Asking but a scant reward; Of the snow a short repast, Or the mosses cropped in haste Reindeer, away! with all thy strength, Speeding o'er the country's length; Speeding onward like the wind, With the sliding sledge behind.
MARY had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow,
And every where that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
He went with her to school one day; That was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play,
To see a lamb at school.
So the teacher turned him out,
But still he lingered near,
And waited patiently about,
Till Mary did appear.
And then he ran to her, and laid His head upon her arm, As if he said: I'm not afraid, You'll keep me from all harm.
"What makes the lamb love Mary so ?" The eager children cry;
"O Mary loves the lamb, you know,"
The teacher did reply.
"And you, each gentle animal
To you, for life, may bind,
And make it follow at your call,
If you are always kind."
I LIKE to see a little dog, And pat him on the head; So prettily he wags his tail, Whenever he is fed.
Some little dogs are very good, And very useful too;
And do you know that they will mind
What they are bid to do?
Then I will never beat my dog,
And never give him pain;
Poor fellow! I will give him food,
And he will love me then.
"THE squirrel is haypy, the squirrel is gay,”
Little Henry exclaimed to his brother;
"He has nothing to do or to think of but play,
And to jump from one bough to another."
But William was older and wiser, and knew
That all play and no work wouldn't answer;
So he asked what the squirrel in winter must do,
If he spent all the summer a dancer.
The squirrel, dear Henry, is merry and wise,
For true wisdom and mirth go together;
He lays up in summer his winter supplies,
And then he don't mind the cold weather.
9. THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE.
SAID a hare to a tortoise, "Good sir, what a while
You've been, only crossing the way;
Why, I really believe, that to go half a mile,
You must travel two nights and a day.”
"I am very contented," the creature replied,
"Though I walk but a tortoise's pace;
But if you think proper, the point to decide,
We will run half a mile, in a race."
"Very good," said the hare; said the tortoise, "Proceed, And the fox shall decide who has won ;"
Then the hare started off with incredible speed,
But the tortoise walk'd leisurely on.
"Come, tortoise, friend tortoise, walk on," said the hare, "While I shall stay here for my dinner;
Why, 't will take you a month, at that rate, to get there,
Then, how can you hope to be winner!"
But the tortoise could hear not a word that she said,
For he was far distant, behind;
So the hare felt secure, while at leisure she fed
And took a sound nap when she'd dined.
But at last this slow walker came up with the hare,
And there, fast asleep did he find her;
And he cunningly crept with such caution and care,
That she woke not, although he passed by her.
"Well now," thought the hare, when she opened her eyes,
"For the race; and I soon shall have done it ;"
But who can describe her chagrin and surprise,
When she found that the tortoise had won it!
Thus, plain, plodding people, we often shall find,
Will leave hasty, confident people behind.
10. THE VULTURE OF THE ALPS.
I'VE been among the mighty Alps, and wandered thro' their vales, And heard the honest mountaineers relate their dismal tales, As round the cottage blazing hearth, when their daily work was o'er, They spoke of those who dissappeared, and ne'er were heard of more.
And there I, from a shepherd, heard a narrative of fear,
A tale to rend a mortal heart, which mothers might not hear;
The tears were standing in his eyes, his voice was tremulous ;
But, wiping all those tears away, he told his story thus:
"It is among these barren cliffs the ravenous vulture dwells,
Who never fattens on the prey which from afar he smells;
But, patient, watching hour on hor, upon a lofty rock,
He singles out some truant lamb, a victim, from the flock.
One cloudless Sabbath summer morn', the sun was rising high,
When, from my children on the green, I heard a fearful cry,
As if some awful deed were done, a shriek of grief and pain,
A cry, I humbly trust in God, I ne'er may hear again.
I hurried out to learn the cause; but overwhelmed with fright, The children never ceased to shriek, and from my frenzied sight I missed the yougest of my babes, the darling of my care; But something caught my searching eyes, slow sailing thro' the air.
Oh! what an awful spectacle to meet a father's eye,
His infant made a vulture's prey, with terror to descry ;
And know, with agonizing heart, and with a maniac rave,
That earthly power could not avail that innocent to save!
My infant stretched his little hands imploringly to me,
And struggled with the ravenous bird, all vainly to get free:
At intervals I heard his cries, as loud he shrieked and screamed!
Until, upon the azure sky, a lessening spot he seemed.
The vulture flapped his sail-like wings, though heavily he flew ;
A mote, upon the sun's broad face, he seemed unto my view;
But once I thought I saw him stoop, as if he would alight,—
"Twas only a delusive thought, for all had vanished quite.
|