THE SWALLOW AND TORTOISE.
A tortoise in a garden’s bound,An ancient inmate of the place,Had left his winter-quarters underground,And, with a sober pace,Was crawling o’er a sunny bed,And thrusting from his shell his pretty toad-like head.Just come from sea, a swallow,As to and fro he nimbly flew,Beat our old racer hollow:At length, he stopped direct in view,And said, “Acquaintance brisk and gay,How have you fared this many a day?”“Thank you,” replied the close housekeeper,“Since you and I last autumn parted,I’ve been a precious sleeper,And never stirred nor started,But in my hole I lay as snugAs fleas within a rug;Nor did I put my head abroadTill all the snow and ice were thawed.”“But I,” rejoined the bird,“Who love cold weather just as well as you,Soon as the warning blasts I heard.Away I flew,And mounting in the wind,Left gloomy winter far behind.Directed by the mid-day sun,O’er sea and land my venturous course I steered,Nor was my distant journey doneTill Afric’s verdant coast appeared.There, all the season long,I chased gay butterflies and gnats,And gave my negro friends a morning song,And housed at night among the bats.Then, at the call of spring,I northward turned my wing,And here again her joyous message bring.”“Lord! what a deal of heedless ranging,”Returned the reptile grave,“For ever hurrying, bustling, changing,As if it were your life to save!Why need you visit foreign nations?Rather like me, and some of your relations,Take out a pleasant half-year’s nap,Secure from trouble and mishap.”“A pleasant nap, indeed!” replied the swallow“When I can neither see nor fly,The bright example I may follow‘Till then, in truth, not I!I measure time by its employment,And only value life for life’s enjoymentAs good be buried all at once,As doze out half one’s days, like you, you stupid dunce!”
A tortoise in a garden’s bound,An ancient inmate of the place,Had left his winter-quarters underground,And, with a sober pace,Was crawling o’er a sunny bed,And thrusting from his shell his pretty toad-like head.Just come from sea, a swallow,As to and fro he nimbly flew,Beat our old racer hollow:At length, he stopped direct in view,And said, “Acquaintance brisk and gay,How have you fared this many a day?”“Thank you,” replied the close housekeeper,“Since you and I last autumn parted,I’ve been a precious sleeper,And never stirred nor started,But in my hole I lay as snugAs fleas within a rug;Nor did I put my head abroadTill all the snow and ice were thawed.”“But I,” rejoined the bird,“Who love cold weather just as well as you,Soon as the warning blasts I heard.Away I flew,And mounting in the wind,Left gloomy winter far behind.Directed by the mid-day sun,O’er sea and land my venturous course I steered,Nor was my distant journey doneTill Afric’s verdant coast appeared.There, all the season long,I chased gay butterflies and gnats,And gave my negro friends a morning song,And housed at night among the bats.Then, at the call of spring,I northward turned my wing,And here again her joyous message bring.”“Lord! what a deal of heedless ranging,”Returned the reptile grave,“For ever hurrying, bustling, changing,As if it were your life to save!Why need you visit foreign nations?Rather like me, and some of your relations,Take out a pleasant half-year’s nap,Secure from trouble and mishap.”“A pleasant nap, indeed!” replied the swallow“When I can neither see nor fly,The bright example I may follow‘Till then, in truth, not I!I measure time by its employment,And only value life for life’s enjoymentAs good be buried all at once,As doze out half one’s days, like you, you stupid dunce!”
A tortoise in a garden’s bound,An ancient inmate of the place,Had left his winter-quarters underground,And, with a sober pace,Was crawling o’er a sunny bed,And thrusting from his shell his pretty toad-like head.
A tortoise in a garden’s bound,
An ancient inmate of the place,
Had left his winter-quarters underground,
And, with a sober pace,
Was crawling o’er a sunny bed,
And thrusting from his shell his pretty toad-like head.
Just come from sea, a swallow,As to and fro he nimbly flew,Beat our old racer hollow:At length, he stopped direct in view,And said, “Acquaintance brisk and gay,How have you fared this many a day?”“Thank you,” replied the close housekeeper,“Since you and I last autumn parted,I’ve been a precious sleeper,And never stirred nor started,But in my hole I lay as snugAs fleas within a rug;Nor did I put my head abroadTill all the snow and ice were thawed.”“But I,” rejoined the bird,“Who love cold weather just as well as you,Soon as the warning blasts I heard.Away I flew,And mounting in the wind,Left gloomy winter far behind.Directed by the mid-day sun,O’er sea and land my venturous course I steered,Nor was my distant journey doneTill Afric’s verdant coast appeared.There, all the season long,I chased gay butterflies and gnats,And gave my negro friends a morning song,And housed at night among the bats.Then, at the call of spring,I northward turned my wing,And here again her joyous message bring.”“Lord! what a deal of heedless ranging,”Returned the reptile grave,“For ever hurrying, bustling, changing,As if it were your life to save!Why need you visit foreign nations?Rather like me, and some of your relations,Take out a pleasant half-year’s nap,Secure from trouble and mishap.”“A pleasant nap, indeed!” replied the swallow“When I can neither see nor fly,The bright example I may follow‘Till then, in truth, not I!I measure time by its employment,And only value life for life’s enjoymentAs good be buried all at once,As doze out half one’s days, like you, you stupid dunce!”
Just come from sea, a swallow,
As to and fro he nimbly flew,
Beat our old racer hollow:
At length, he stopped direct in view,
And said, “Acquaintance brisk and gay,
How have you fared this many a day?”
“Thank you,” replied the close housekeeper,
“Since you and I last autumn parted,
I’ve been a precious sleeper,
And never stirred nor started,
But in my hole I lay as snug
As fleas within a rug;
Nor did I put my head abroad
Till all the snow and ice were thawed.”
“But I,” rejoined the bird,
“Who love cold weather just as well as you,
Soon as the warning blasts I heard.
Away I flew,
And mounting in the wind,
Left gloomy winter far behind.
Directed by the mid-day sun,
O’er sea and land my venturous course I steered,
Nor was my distant journey done
Till Afric’s verdant coast appeared.
There, all the season long,
I chased gay butterflies and gnats,
And gave my negro friends a morning song,
And housed at night among the bats.
Then, at the call of spring,
I northward turned my wing,
And here again her joyous message bring.”
“Lord! what a deal of heedless ranging,”
Returned the reptile grave,
“For ever hurrying, bustling, changing,
As if it were your life to save!
Why need you visit foreign nations?
Rather like me, and some of your relations,
Take out a pleasant half-year’s nap,
Secure from trouble and mishap.”
“A pleasant nap, indeed!” replied the swallow
“When I can neither see nor fly,
The bright example I may follow
‘Till then, in truth, not I!
I measure time by its employment,
And only value life for life’s enjoyment
As good be buried all at once,
As doze out half one’s days, like you, you stupid dunce!”