Thus Reynard glibly spoke, And loud applause from flatterers broke, Of neither tiger, boar, nor bear, Did any keen inquirer dare To ask for crimes of high degree; The fighters, biters, scratchers, all From every mortal sin were free; The very dogs, both great and small, Were saints, as far as dogs could be. The Ass, confessing in his turn, Thus spoke in tones of deep concern: "I happen'd through a mead to pass; The monks, its owners, were at mass; Keen hunger, leisure, tender grass, And add to these the devil too, All tempted me the deed to do. I browsed the bigness of my tongue; Since truth must out, I own it wrong." On this, a hue and cry arose, As if the beasts were all his foes: A Wolf, haranguing lawyer-wise, Denounced the Ass for sacrifice-- The bald-pate, scabby, ragged lout, By whom the plague had come, no doubt. His fault was judged a hanging crime. "What? eat another's grass? O shame! The noose of rope and death sublime, For that offence, were all too tame!" And soon poor Grizzle felt the same. _Thus human courts acquit the strong, And doom the weak, as therefore wrong._ The Fowler, the Hawk, and the Lark From wrongs of wicked men we draw Excuses for our own; Such is the universal law. Would you have mercy shown, Let yours be clearly known. A Fowler's mirror served to snare The little tenants of the air. A Lark there saw her pretty face, And was approaching to the place. A Hawk, that sailed on high, Like vapour in the sky, Came down, as still as infant's breath, On her who sang so near her death. She thus escaped the Fowler's steel, The Hawk's malignant claws to feel. While in his cruel way, The pirate plucked his prey, Upon himself the net was sprung. "O Fowler," prayed he in the hawkish tongue, "Release me in thy clemency! I never did a wrong to thee." The man replied, "'Tis true; And did the Lark to you?" Phoebus and Boreas