The Children's Garland from the Best Poets Part 50
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'Oh, I have lost my darling boy, In whom my soul had all its joy; And I for sorrow have torn my veil, And sorrow hath made my very heart pale.
'Oh, I have lost my darling child, And that's the loss that makes me wild; He stoop'd by the river down to drink, And there was a Crocodile by the brink.
'He did not venture in to swim, He only stoop'd to drink at the brim; But under the reeds the Crocodile lay, And struck with his tail and swept him away.
'Now take me in your boat, I pray, For down the river lies my way, And me to the Reed Island bring, For I will go to the Crocodile King.
'He reigns not now in Crocodilople, Proud as the Turk at Constantinople; No ruins of his great city remain; The Island of Reeds is his whole domain.
'Like a dervise there he pa.s.ses his days, Turns up his eyes, and fasts and prays; And being grown pious and meek and mild, He now never eats man, woman, or child.
'The King of the Crocodiles never does wrong, He has no tail so stiff and strong, He has no tail to strike and slay, But he has ears to hear what I say.
'And to the King I will complain How my poor child was wickedly slain; The King of the Crocodiles he is good, And I shall have the murderer's blood.'
The man replied, 'No, woman, no; To the Island of Reeds I will not go; I would not for any worldly thing See the face of the Crocodile King.'
'Then lend me now your little boat, And I will down the river float, I tell thee that no worldly thing Shall keep me from the Crocodile King.
'The King of the Crocodiles he is good, And therefore will give me blood for blood; Being so mighty and so just, He can revenge me, he will, and he must.'
The woman she leapt into the boat, And down the river alone did she float, And fast with the stream the boat proceeds, And now she is come to the Island of Reeds.
The King of the Crocodiles there was seen; He sat upon the eggs of the Queen, And all around, a numerous rout, The young Prince Crocodiles crawl'd about.
The woman shook every limb with fear As she to the Crocodile King came near, For never a man without fear and awe The face of his Crocodile Majesty saw.
She fell upon her bended knee, And said, 'O King, have pity on me, For I have lost my darling child, And that's the loss that makes me wild.
'A crocodile ate him for his food: Now let me have the murderer's blood; Let me have vengeance for my boy, The only thing that can give me joy.
'I know that you, sire, never do wrong, You have no tail so stiff and strong, You have no tail to strike and slay, But you have ears to hear what I say.'
'You have done well,' the king replies, And fix'd on her his little eyes; 'Good woman, yes, you have done right; But you have not described me quite.
'I have no tail to strike and slay, And I have ears to hear what you say; I have teeth, moreover, as you may see, And I will make a meal of thee.'
Wicked the word, and bootless the boast, As cruel King Crocodile found to his cost, And proper reward of tyrannical might; He show'd his teeth, but he miss'd his bite.
'A meal of me!' the woman cried, Taking wit in her anger, and courage beside; She took him his forelegs and hind between, And trundled him off the eggs of the Queen.
To revenge herself then she did not fail; He was slow in his motions for want of a tail; But well for the woman was it the while That the Queen was gadding abroad in the Nile.
Two Crocodile Princes, as they play'd on the sand, She caught, and grasping them one in each hand, Thrust the head of one into the throat of the other, And made each Prince Crocodile choke his brother.
And when she had truss'd three couple this way, She carried them off and hasten'd away, And plying her oars with might and main, Cross'd the river and got to the sh.o.r.e again.
When the Crocodile Queen came home, she found That her eggs were broken and scatter'd around, And that six young princes, darlings all, Were missing; for none of them answered her call.
Then many a not very pleasant thing Pa.s.s'd between her and the Crocodile King; 'Is this your care of the nest?' cried she; 'It comes of your gadding abroad,' said he.
The Queen had the better in this dispute, And the Crocodile King found it best to be mute; While a terrible peal in his ears she rung, For the Queen had a tail as well as a tongue.
In woful patience he let her rail, Standing less in fear of her tongue than her tail, And knowing that all the words which were spoken.
Could not mend one of the eggs that were broken.
The woman, meantime, was very well pleased, She had saved her life, and her heart was eased; The justice she ask'd in vain for her son, She had taken herself, and six for one.
'Mash-Allah!' her neighbours exclaim'd in delight, She gave them a funeral supper that night, Where they all agreed that revenge was sweet, And young Prince Crocodiles delicate meat.
_R. Southey_
CXLIX
_THE LION AND THE CUB_
A lion cub, of sordid mind, Avoided all the lion kind; Fond of applause, he sought the feasts Of vulgar and ign.o.ble beasts; With a.s.ses all his time he spent, Their club's perpetual president.
He caught their manners, looks, and airs; An a.s.s in everything but ears!
If e'er his Highness meant a joke, They grinn'd applause before he spoke; But at each word what shouts of praise; Goodness! how natural he brays!
Elate with flattery and conceit, He seeks his royal sire's retreat; Forward and fond to show his parts, His Highness brays; the lion starts.
'Puppy! that curs'd vociferation Betrays thy life and conversation: c.o.xcombs, an ever-noisy race, Are trumpets of their own disgrace.
'Why so severe?' the cub replies; 'Our senate always held me wise!'
'How weak is pride,' returns the sire: 'All fools are vain when fools admire!
But know, what stupid a.s.ses prize, Lions and n.o.ble beasts despise.'
_J. Gay_
CL
_THE SNAIL_
To gra.s.s, or leaf, or fruit, or wall, The snail sticks close, nor fears to fall.
As if he grew there house and all Together.
Within that house secure he hides, When danger imminent betides Of storm, or other harm besides Of weather.
Give but his horns the slightest touch, His self-collecting power is such, He shrinks into his house with much Displeasure.
Where'er he dwells, he dwells alone, Except himself has chattels none, Well satisfied to be his own Whole treasure.
The Children's Garland from the Best Poets Part 50
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The Children's Garland from the Best Poets Part 50 summary
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