The Raven and the Fox

This truth within the heart is graven :— All flattery is false ; and so, there's no excuse, If listeners succumb when flatterers seduce.

Up on a little fir-tree lightly hopped a raven That wished to breakfast at her ease, And carried in her mouth a piece of fragrant cheese. But while she pondered, then a morsel tasted, A fox adjudged the chance too perfect to be wasted. Was taken captive by the cheesy scent ; On looking up, no further on his journey went. The rogue, on tip-toe, to the fir-tree slow approaches. Upon the bird's attention sly encroaches. And gently says, in accents low and clear :— "Oh, songster exquisite and dear. Your eyes are soft with love and pity, I humbly bow to one so pretty. Ne'er have I seen such feathers, such a beak ! Oh, queen of all the birds ! but let me hear you speak. Or rather, deign to sing ! Enjoy a moment's leisure And charm the world with tones delightful beyond measure. Pour forth fine notes, my gracious treasure ! " The raven held her breath, and nearly died from choking, And then, as if a wild ambition in her burned. She opened wide her mouth for harsh discordant croaking. And the fox gained the cheese his cunning skill had earned.