For six long months, the sleepless echo flew. The bird, once Ganymede, now made Her prayer to Jupiter for aid; And, laying them within his godship's lap, She thought her eggs now safe from all mishap; The god his own could not but make them-- No wretch, would venture there to break them. And no one did. Their enemy, this time, Upsoaring to a place sublime, Let fall upon his royal robes some dirt, Which Jove just shaking, with a sudden flirt, Threw out the eggs, no one knows whither. When Jupiter inform'd her how th' event Occurr'd by purest accident, The eagle raved; there was no reasoning with her; She gave out threats of leaving court, To make the desert her resort, And other brav'ries of this sort. Poor Jupiter in silence heard The uproar of his favourite bird. Before his throne the beetle now appear'd, And by a clear complaint the mystery clear'd. The god pronounced the eagle in the wrong. But still, their hatred was so old and strong, These enemies could not be reconciled; And, that the general peace might not be spoil'd,-- The best that he could do,--the god arranged, That thence the eagle's pairing should be changed, To come when beetle folks are only found Conceal'd and dormant under ground. [14] Aesop. IX.--THE LION AND THE GNAT.[15] 'Go, paltry insect, nature's meanest brat!' Thus said the royal lion to the gnat. The gnat declared immediate war. 'Think you,' said he, 'your royal name To me worth caring for? Think you I tremble at your power or fame? The ox is bigger far than you; Yet him I drive, and all his crew.' This said, as one that did no fear owe, Himself he blew the battle charge, Himself both trumpeter and hero. At first he play'd about at large, Then on the lion's neck, at leisure, settled, And there the royal beast full sorely nettled. With foaming mouth, and flashing eye, He roars. All creatures hide or fly,-- Such mortal terror at The work of one poor gnat! With constant change of his attack, The snout now stinging, now the back, And now the chambers of the nose; The pigmy fly no mercy shows. The lion's rage was at its height; His viewless foe now laugh'd outright, When on his battle-ground he saw, That every savage tooth and claw Had got its proper beauty By doing bloody duty; Himself, the hapless lion, tore his hide, And lash'd with sounding tail from side to side. Ah! bootless blow, and bite, and curse! He beat the harmless air, and worse; For, though so fierce and stout, By effort wearied out, He fainted, fell, gave up the quarrel. The gnat retires with verdant laurel.