When, in the shape of snares and cruel traps, Will burst the tempest which to-day is brewing. Be wise, and eat the hemp up now or never; Take my advice." But no, the little birds, Who thought themselves, no doubt, immensely clever, Laughed loudly at the Swallow's warning words. Soon after, when the hemp grew green and tall, He begged the Birds to tear it into tatters. "Prophet of ill," they answered one and all, "Cease chattering about such paltry matters." The hemp at length was ripe, and then the Swallow, Remarking that "ill weeds were never slow," Continued--"Though it's now too late to follow The good advice I gave you long ago, You still may manage to preserve your lives By giving credit to the voice of reason. Remain at home, I beg you, with your wives, And shun the perils of the coming season. You cannot cross the desert or the seas, To settle down in distant habitations; Make nests, then, in the walls, and there, at ease, Defy mankind and all its machinations." They scorned his warnings, as in Troy of old Men scorned the lessons that Cassandra taught. And shortly, as the Swallow had foretold, Great numbers of them in the traps were caught. To instincts not our own we give no credit, And till misfortune comes, we never dread it. [Illustration: THE TOWN RAT AND THE COUNTRY RAT.] FABLE IX. THE TOWN RAT AND THE COUNTRY RAT. A Rat from town, a country Rat Invited in the civilest way; For dinner there was just to be Ortolans and an entremet. Upon a Turkey carpet soft The noble feast at last was spread; I leave you pretty well to guess The merry, pleasant life they led. Gay the repast, for plenty reigned, Nothing was wanting to the fare; But hardly had it well begun Ere chance disturbed the friendly pair. A sudden racket at the door Alarmed them, and they made retreat; The City Rat was not the last, His comrade followed fast and fleet. The noise soon over, they returned, As rats on such occasions do; "Come," said the liberal citizen, "And let us finish our ragout." "Not a crumb more," the rustic said; "To-morrow you shall dine with me; Don't think me jealous of your state, Or all your royal luxury; "But then I eat so quiet at home, And nothing dangerous is near; Good-bye, my friend, I have no love For pleasure when it's mixed with fear." FABLE X. THE MAN AND HIS IMAGE. FOR M. THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.