Henry was every morning fed With a full mess of milk and bread. One day the boy his breakfast took, And ate it by a purling brook. His mother lets him have his way. With free leave Henry every day Thither repairs, until she heard Him talking of a fine _grey bird_. This pretty bird, he said, indeed, Came every day with him to feed; And it loved him and loved his milk, And it was smooth and soft like silk. On the next morn she follows Harry, And carefully she sees him carry Through the long grass his heap’d-up mess. What was her terror and distress When she saw the infant take His bread and milk close to a snake! Upon the grass he spreads his feast And sits down by his frightful guest. Who had waited for the treat; And now they both began to eat. Fond mother! shriek not, O beware The least small noise, O have a care-- The least small noise that may be made The wily snake will be afraid-- If he hear the slightest sound, He will inflict th’ envenom’d wound. --She speaks not, moves not, scarce does breathe, As she stands the trees beneath. No sound she utters; and she soon Sees the child lift up his spoon, And tap the snake upon the head, Fearless of harm; and then he said, As speaking to familiar mate, “Keep on your own side, do, Grey Pate;” The snake then to the other side, As one rebuked, seems to glide; And now again advancing nigh, Again she hears the infant cry, Tapping the snake, “Keep further, do; Mind, Grey Pate, what I say to you.” The danger’s o’er! she sees the boy (O what a change from fear to joy!) Rise and bid the snake “good-bye;” Says he, “Our breakfast’s done, and I Will come again to-morrow day;” Then lightly tripping, ran away. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE BEASTS IN THE TOWER] XII Within the precincts of this yard, Each in his narrow confines barr’d, Dwells every beast that can be found On Afric or on Indian ground; How different was the life they led In those wild haunts where they were bred, To this tame servitude and fear, Enslaved by man, they suffer here!