A beldam kept two spinning maids, Who plied so handily their trades, Those spinning sisters down below Were bunglers when compared with these. No care did this old woman know But giving tasks as she might please. No sooner did the god of day His glorious locks enkindle, Than both the wheels began to play, And from each whirling spindle Forth danced the thread right merrily, And back was coil'd unceasingly. Soon as the dawn, I say, its tresses show'd, A graceless cock most punctual crow'd. The beldam roused, more graceless yet, In greasy petticoat bedight, Struck up her farthing light, And then forthwith the bed beset, Where deeply, blessedly did snore Those two maid-servants tired and poor. One oped an eye, an arm one stretch'd, And both their breath most sadly fetch'd, This threat concealing in the sigh-- 'That cursed cock shall surely die!' And so he did:--they cut his throat, And put to sleep his rousing note. And yet this murder mended not The cruel hardship of their lot; For now the twain were scarce in bed Before they heard the summons dread. The beldam, full of apprehension Lest oversleep should cause detention, Ran like a goblin through her mansion. Thus often, when one thinks To clear himself from ill, His effort only sinks Him in the deeper still. The beldam, acting for the cock, Was Scylla for Charybdis' rock. [9] Aesop. VII.--THE SATYR AND THE TRAVELLER.[10] Within a savage forest grot A satyr and his chips Were taking down their porridge hot; Their cups were at their lips. You might have seen in mossy den, Himself, his wife, and brood; They had not tailor-clothes, like men, But appetites as good. In came a traveller, benighted, All hungry, cold, and wet, Who heard himself to eat invited With nothing like regret. He did not give his host the pain His asking to repeat; But first he blew with might and main To give his fingers heat. Then in his steaming porridge dish He delicately blew. The wondering satyr said, 'I wish The use of both I knew.' 'Why, first, my blowing warms my hand, And then it cools my porridge.' 'Ah!' said his host, 'then understand I cannot give you storage. 'To sleep beneath one roof with you, I may not be so bold. Far be from me that mouth untrue Which blows both hot and cold.' [10] Aesop. VIII.--THE HORSE AND THE WOLF.[11]