[Illustration: THE OWL AND THE MICE.] An Owl had made its gloomy seat-- The bird that Atropos thought meet Its cry of vengeance to repeat. Deep in this pine-tree's stem, time-worn, With other living things forlorn, Lived swarms of Mice, who had no toes; But never Mice were fat as those, For Master Owl, who'd snipped and torn, Day after day fed them on corn. The wise bird reasoned thus: "I've oft Caught and stored Mice within my croft, Which ran away, and 'scaped my claws; One remedy is, I'll cut their paws, And eat them slowly at my ease-- Now one of those, now one of these. To eat them all at once were blameful, And my digestion is so shameful." You see the Owl was, in his way, As wise as we; so, day by day, His Mice had fit and due provision. Yet, after this, some rash Cartesian Is obstinate enough to swear That Owls but mechanism are. But how, then, could this night-bird find This craftily-contrived device, The nibbling of the paws of mice, Were he not furnished with a mind? See how he argued craftily: "Whene'er I catch these Mice, they flee; And so the only way to save them Is at one huge meal to brave them. But that I cannot do; besides, The wise man for bad days provides. But how to keep them within reach? Why, neatly bite the paws from each." Now, could there, gentle reader mine, Be human reasoning more fine? Could Aristotle's self have wrought A closer chain of argued thought? FABLE CCX. THE COMPANIONS OF ULYSSES. TO THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY. O Prince! to whom the immortals give Their care, and power, and grace, permit: My verse may on your shrine still live, By burning there, though void of wit. I know 'tis late; but let my muse Plead years and duns for her excuse. My soul is faint, and not like yours, Which as an eagle proudly soars. The hero from whose veins you drew This brilliant soul, is e'en like you, In martial fields; 'tis not his fault His steps at victory's archway halt: Some god retains him; the same king Who once the Rhine with victory's wing Swept over in one month, they say. Then speed was right; but now, delay. But I must pause. The Loves and Smiles Detest the verse that runs to miles: And of the Loves and Smiles your court Is, all men know, the chief resort. But other gods its precincts grace: Good Sense and Reason there have place; And I must beg that you will seek Of these a story from the Greek, Of certain men who, yielding up Their souls to Folly's poisoned cup, From men to beasts were quickly changed, And in brute forms the forest ranged.