"How can you pretend,"
Said his poor bleating friend,
"To complain? Let me silence to you recommend.
My sorrows are deep,"
Continued the Sheep,
And her eyes looked as if she were ready to weep.
"I expect,—'tis no fable,—
To be dragged from the stable.
And to-morrow, perhaps, be cut up for the table.
Now you, with docility.
Strength and civility,—
Will live some years longer, in all probability.
So, no envy, I beg.
For I'll bet you an egg.
You will carry the spinach to eat with my leg."
The situation of those we envy is often much worse than our own.
(Translated from the Polish of Ignace Krasicki.)
THE BROOK AND THE FOUNTAIN
A FOUNTAIN varied gambols played
Close by an humble Brook;
While gently murmuring through the glade,
Its peaceful course it took.
