Than, 'Now's the time,' she said, 'my chicks;' And, taking little time to fix, Away they flew; All fluttering, soaring, often grounding, Decamp'd without a trumpet sounding. [28] Aesop (Aulus Gellus); Avianus. * * * * * BOOK V. I.--THE WOODMAN AND MERCURY.[1] To M. The Chevalier De Bouillon.[2] Your taste has served my work to guide; To gain its suffrage I have tried. You'd have me shun a care too nice, Or beauty at too dear a price, Or too much effort, as a vice. My taste with yours agrees: Such effort cannot please; And too much pains about the polish Is apt the substance to abolish; Not that it would be right or wise The graces all to ostracize. You love them much when delicate; Nor is it left for me to hate. As to the scope of Aesop's plan,[3] I fail as little as I can. If this my rhymed and measured speech Availeth not to please or teach, I own it not a fault of mine; Some unknown reason I assign. With little strength endued For battles rough and rude, Or with Herculean arm to smite, I show to vice its foolish plight. In this my talent wholly lies; Not that it does at all suffice. My fable sometimes brings to view The face of vanity purblind With that of restless envy join'd; And life now turns upon these pivots two. Such is the silly little frog That aped the ox upon her bog. A double image sometimes shows How vice and folly do oppose The ways of virtue and good sense; As lambs with wolves so grim and gaunt, The silly fly and frugal ant. Thus swells my work--a comedy immense-- Its acts unnumber'd and diverse, Its scene the boundless universe. Gods, men, and brutes, all play their part In fields of nature or of art, And Jupiter among the rest. Here comes the god who's wont to bear Jove's frequent errands to the fair, With winged heels and haste; But other work's in hand to-day.