A FABLE.
A mother mouse with mien most humbleCalled to her children—one and all—Revealed to them her sins so many,That o’er her heart hung like a pall.“I must my sins be expiatingBefore my life draws to an end.To convent holy, I will enter,And my past sins will there amend.”“O do not seek me! Do not follow!Where I am, seek not to know.Take heed my children to my warning,For it will save you pain and woe.”“Farewell! Farewell! I now must leave you,Of myadviceO pray take heed;And do not follow myexample,To grief it surely will you lead.”When left alone the little mouseletsWere very happy for a while;For mice, like children, are forgetful,They soon forgot their mother’s guile.They hopped around, all rules forgetting,Until their hunger made them thinkOf their dear mother, their provider,Their eyes with tears then ’gan to blink.“O let us search for our dear mother;She may be hungry, cold, or dead.O we will never give up hunting,Though we may die with her instead.”They searched for her in every corner,In every crevice, every nook.But searched in vain, they could not find her:So thought no further they would look.But they a big round cheese discovered;It long upon a shelf had lain.“Forsooth we’ll take a little breakfast,Our search has not been all in vain.”All their past searching they found needless;For snugly housed within the cheeseThey found their poor repentant mother,With conscience very much at ease.Forgotten was their mother’steaching,And all that she for them had borne,They only thought of herexample,And for her sins they could but mourn.If you have sins my friends to mourn for,Seek not a cheese to hide within.For surely someone will be seeking,And finding cheese, will look therein.
A mother mouse with mien most humbleCalled to her children—one and all—Revealed to them her sins so many,That o’er her heart hung like a pall.“I must my sins be expiatingBefore my life draws to an end.To convent holy, I will enter,And my past sins will there amend.”“O do not seek me! Do not follow!Where I am, seek not to know.Take heed my children to my warning,For it will save you pain and woe.”“Farewell! Farewell! I now must leave you,Of myadviceO pray take heed;And do not follow myexample,To grief it surely will you lead.”When left alone the little mouseletsWere very happy for a while;For mice, like children, are forgetful,They soon forgot their mother’s guile.They hopped around, all rules forgetting,Until their hunger made them thinkOf their dear mother, their provider,Their eyes with tears then ’gan to blink.“O let us search for our dear mother;She may be hungry, cold, or dead.O we will never give up hunting,Though we may die with her instead.”They searched for her in every corner,In every crevice, every nook.But searched in vain, they could not find her:So thought no further they would look.But they a big round cheese discovered;It long upon a shelf had lain.“Forsooth we’ll take a little breakfast,Our search has not been all in vain.”All their past searching they found needless;For snugly housed within the cheeseThey found their poor repentant mother,With conscience very much at ease.Forgotten was their mother’steaching,And all that she for them had borne,They only thought of herexample,And for her sins they could but mourn.
If you have sins my friends to mourn for,Seek not a cheese to hide within.For surely someone will be seeking,And finding cheese, will look therein.