Donkey of any colour. And however wonderful he had seemed at first, there was soon not a person in town who ever said a word about him.
(From the German of Gellert.)
THE CUCKOO
ONE day a Cuckoo, in his flights up and down,
Fell in with a Starling escaping from town:
"Pray, what is the talk?" he began with an air;
"Pray, how do they speak of our songs in the city?
Pray, what do they think of the Nightingale there?"
"The whole of the town is in love with her ditty."—
"And pray, what remark do they pass on the lark?"—
"She's high in renown with the half of the town."—
"Indeed! well, and as to the blackbird?"—"He too.
Is very much praised, here and there, by a few."—
"Well, now I've to add, that I'd feel very glad
If you'd tell me the various opinions that go forth,
Respecting myself, and my merits, and so forth?"—
"Why that," said the Starling, "I hardly can do.
For scarcely a soul ever talks about you."—
"Base ingrates!—well then, as they grant me no praise
I'll trumpet myself to the end of my days."
So saying, away to the forest he flew.
And even since then has been crying "Cuckoo!"
(Gellert.)
