Perhaps is true;
But not for what I've done to-day,
In that I did but one boy slay;
'Twas that another got away,
Which I had hop'd to swallow too!"
Such tears as these we may believe
Are often shed when sinners grieve.
FABLE XXXV.
THE CATERPILLAR.
One day the animals began
The silk-worm's wond'rous works to scan.
"What talent," they exclaimed, "she shows!
How glossily her spinning glows!
How rich, and smooth, and bright!"
All present her nice thread extoll'd;
'Twas fine, and soft, and shone like gold,
And well the proudest might delight.
Did we say all?—No, one there was,
Who in the thread could find some flaws.
It was the caterpillar, who
Was pleas'd to take another view.
With buts, and ifs she seems to doubt,
And hesitates at speaking out.
