A wealthy Labourer lay near to death; And, summoning his children round the bed, He thus addressed them, with his latest breath: "Part not with my estate when I am dead. My parents left me what I leave to <i>you.</i> About the place a treasure lies concealed, No matter where,--search every corner through, Nor leave a spot unturned in any field. Go, seek it from the morning till the night." Their father dead, the loving sons fulfilled The dying wish, that made their labour light: From end to end the fields were duly tilled. The harvest was enormous, though they found No golden treasures, howsoever small. And yet the father's last advice was sound, For Labour <i>is</i> a treasure, after all. FABLE XCV. THE HEN WITH THE GOLDEN EGGS. My little story will explain An olden maxim, which expresses How Avarice, in search of gain, May lose the hoard that it possesses. The fable tells us that a Hen Laid golden eggs, each egg a treasure; Its owner--stupidest of men-- Was miserly beyond all measure. He thought a mine of wealth to find Within the Hen, and so he slew it: He found a bird of common kind-- And lost a pretty fortune through it. For money-worms, who now and then Grow poor through trying to be wealthy, I tell my fable of the Hen; My tale is good, my moral healthy. [Illustration: THE HEN WITH THE GOLDEN EGGS.] FABLE XCVI. THE ASS THAT CARRIED THE RELICS. An Ass, with relics loaded, thought the crowd Knelt down to him, and straightway grew so proud; He took to his own merit, without qualms, Even the incense and loud chaunted psalms, Some one, to undeceive him, wisely said-- "A foolish vanity has turned your head: They not to you, but to the idol pray; Where glory's due, there they the honour pay." When foolish magistrates rule o'er a town, It's not the man we bow to, but his gown. FABLE XCVII. THE SERPENT AND THE FILE. A Serpent once and Watchmaker were neighbours (Unpleasant neighbour for a working man); The Snake came creeping in among his labours, Seeking for food on the felonious plan; But all the broth he found was but a File, And that he gnawed in vain--the steel was tough. The tool said, with a calm contemptuous smile, "Poor and mistaken thing! that's <i>quantum suff.</i> You lose your time, you shallow sneak, you do, You'll never bite a farthing's worth off me, Though you break all your teeth: I tell you true, I fear alone Time's great voracity." This is for critics--all the baser herd. Who, restless, gnaw at everything they find. Bah! you waste time, you do, upon my word; Don't think your teeth can pierce the thinnest rind: To injure noble works you try, and try, but can't, To you they're diamond, steel, and adamant. FABLE XCVIII.