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344
MODERN FABLES

THE KITE AND THE NIGHTINGALE

A VILLAIN Kite, whose Robber-life had spread
His fame around, and still the mischief grew,
Till all the neighbours heard his cry with dread,
And village children hooted as he flew.
Had seized at last a hapless Nightingale:
The Herald of the Spring, with piteous wail,
Begged hard for life. "Oh, gentle Robber, spare me!
I'm a poor meal for choice—
A wretched bird with little else but voice!
Don't tear me,
But rather hear me.
I'll sing of Tereus."—"Tereus? What was he?
Something to make a dainty dish for me?"
"Nay," said the bird, "he was a cruel king,
Whose evil love was my undoing;
List to the tuneful lay that I shall sing
Of his unholy wooing.
So sadly sweet, it charms each listening ear;
You, too, will be delighted when you hear."
"Truly," the Kite replied, "a likely thing!
A charming proposition!
I want a meal just now, not a musician!"
"Yet kings have heard me gladly."—"When a king
Has caught you," said the Kite, "then you can squall
For his amusement. I'm a Kite, you see;