Cole's Funny Picture Book No. 1
A perfect mask as e'er was made;
At which a lady meant to wear
At the ensuing masquerade.
He turned it round with much surprise,
To find it prove so light and thin;
"How strange!" astonished Reynard cries,
"Here's mouth and nose, and eyes and chin.
"And cheeks and lips, extremely pretty;
And yet, one thing there still remains
To make it perfect--what a pity,
So fine a head should have no brains!"
Thus, to some boy or maiden pretty;
Who to get learning takes no pains,
May we exclaim, "Ah! what a pity,
So fine a head should have no brains!"
The Fox and Crow
In a dairy a crow,
Having ventured to go,
Some food for her young ones to seek,
Flew up in the trees
With a fine piece of cheese,
Which she joyfuly held in her beak.
A fox who lived by,
To the tree saw her fly,
And to share in the prize he made a vow,
For, having just dined,
He for cheese felt inclined,
So he went and sat under the bough.
She was cunning he knew,
But so was he, too,
And with flattery adapted his plan;
For he knew if she'd speak,
It must fall from his beak,
So, bowing politely, began:
"'Tis a very fine day,"
(Not a word did she say),
"The wind, I believe, ma'am, is south:
A fine harvest for peas;"
He then looked at the cheese,
But the crow did not open her mouth.
Sly Reynard, not tired,
He plumage admired:
"How charming! how brilliant its hue!
The voice must be fine
Of a bird so divine,
Ah, let me hear it, pray do.
Believe me I long
To hear a sweet song;"
The silly crow foolishly tries;
She scarce gave one squall,
When the cheese she let fall,
And the fox ran away with the prize.
Jane Taylor
The Blind Men and the Elephant
(A Hindoo Fable)
It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see an elephant,
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.
The FIRST approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"God bless me!--but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!"
The SECOND feeling of the tusk,
Cried: "Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp!
To me 'tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!"
The THIRD approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
This boldly up and spake:
"I see," quoth he, "The Elephant
Is very like a snake!"
The FOURTH reached out his eager hand,
And felt about the knee,
"What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain," quoth he;
"'Tis clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!"
The FIFTH, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: "E'n the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most,
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan."
The SIXTH no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a rope!"
And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong.
[Page 187--Mixed Animal Land]
An Address to a Mouse
Sly little, cowering, timorous beastie!
Oh what a panic's in thy breastie!
You need not start away so hasty,
With bickering speed:
I should be loth to run and chase thee
I should indeed!
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Hath broken Nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion,
And fellow mortal.
Sometimes, I doubt not, thou dost thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou must live;
A little barley in the shieve
Is small request;
And all thou tak'st, I do believe,
Will ne'er be missed.
R. Burns
Song of the Toad
I am an honest toad,
Living here by the road;
Beneath a stone I dwell,
In a snug little cell.
When the rain patters down,
I let it wet my crown;
And now and then I sip
A drop with my lip.
And now a catch a fly,
And now I wink my eye,
And now I take a hop,
And now and then I stop.
And this is all I do,
And yet they sat it's true
That the toad's face is sad,
And his bite is very bad.
Oh! naughty folks they be
Who tell such tales of me!
For I'm an honest toad
Just living by the road,
Hip, hip, hop.
Mosquito Song
In a summer's night I take my flight
To where the maidens repose;
And while they are slumbering sweet and sound,
I bite them on the nose;
The warm red blood that tints their cheeks,
To me is precious dear,
For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite
In the season of the year.
When I get my fill, I wipe my bill,
And sound my tiny horn;
And off I fly to mountain high
Ere breaks the golden morn;
But at eve I sally forth again
To tickle the sleeper's ear;
For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite
In the season of the year.
On the chamber wall about I crawl,
Till landlord goes to bed;
Then my bugle I blow, and down I go
To light upon his head.
Oh, I love to see the fellow slap,
And regret to hear him swear;
For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite
In the season of the year.
The Nightingale and Glow-worm
A Nightingale, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel--as well he might--
The keen demands of appetite;
When looking eagerly around,
He spied, far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark;
So; stooping down, from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him this, quite eloquent--
"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
"As much as I your minstrelsy?
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 'twas the self-same power divine
Taught you to sing, and me to shine:
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."
The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Released him as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.
Cowper
The Glow-worm
Beneath this hedge, or near the stream,
A worm is known to stray,
That shows by night a lucid stream
That disappears by day.
Disputes have been, and still prevail,
From whence his rays proceed;
Some give the honor to his tail,
And others to his head;
But this is sure--the hand of might
That kindles up the skies,
Gives him a modicum of light,
Proportion'd to his size.
Perhaps indulgent Nature meant,
By such a lamp bestow'd,
To bid the traveller as he went,
Be careful where he trod.
Cowper
Happiness of the Grasshopper
Happy insect! what can be
In happiness compared with thee!
Fed with nourishment divine,
The dewy morning's gentle wine;
Nature waits upon thee still,
And thy verdant cup does fill.
All the fields which thou dost see,
All the plants belong to thee:
All that summer hours produce,
Fertile made with easy juice;
The country hinds with gladness hear,
Prophet of the ripened year!
Cowley
The Whale
Warm and buoyant, in his oily mail,
Gambols on seas of ice th' unwieldily whale;
Wide waving fins round boating islands urge
His bulk gigantic through the troubled surge;
With hideous yawn, the flying shoals he seeks,
Or clasps with fringe of horn his massy cheeks;
Lifts o'er the tossing wave his nostril bare,
And spouts the watery columns into air;
The silvery arches catch the setting beams,
And transient rainbows tremble o'er the streams.
Darwin
The wasp and the Bee
A wasp met a bee that was just buzzing by,
And he said "Little Cousin, can you tell me why
You are loved so much better by people than I.
"My back shines as bright, and as yellow as gold
And my shape is most elegant too to behold,
And yet nobody likes me for that, I am told,"
Bz.
"Ah! Cousin," the bee said, "'tis all very true,
But if I were half as much mischief to do,
Then I'm sure they would love me no better than you.
Bz.
"You have a fine shape and a delicate wing,
And they say you are handsome; but then there's one thing
They never can put up with; and that is your sting.
Bz.
"My coat is quite homely and plain, as you see,
But yet no one is angry or scolding at me,
Just because I'm a harmless and busy bee."
Bz.
From this little story let people beware,
For if, like the cross wasp, ill-natured they are,
They will never be loved, though they're ever so fair.
My Pets
I bring my little doggies milk;
I bring my rabbits hay;
I feed and tend, and love them well--
Such helpless things are they!
See! now in soft and cozy bed
They roll about and play;
They've milk and bones, and all they want--
Such happy pets are they!
[Page 188--Squirrel Land]
The Squirrel
I'm a merry, merry squirrel,
All day I leap and whirl
Through my home in the old beech-tree
If you chase me I will run
In the shade and in the sun;
But you never, never can catch me
For round a bough I'll creep,
Playing hide and seek so sly;
Or through the leaves bo-peep,
With my little shining eye.
Up and down I run and frisk,
With my bushy tail to whisk
All who mope in the old beech-trees.
How droll to see the owl
As I make him wink and growl,
While his sleepy, sleepy head I tease!
And I waken up the bat,
Who flies off with a scream,
For he thinks that I'm the cat
Pouncing on him, in his dream.
Through all the summer long
I never want a song
From birds in the old beech-trees
I have singers all the night,
And with the morning bright
Come my busy, humming, fat, brown bees.
When I've nothing else to do
With the nursing birds I sit;
And we laugh at the cuckoo
A-coo-cooing to her tit!
When winter comes with snow
An its cruel tempests blow
All my leaves from the old beech-trees,
Then beside the wren and mouse
I furnish up a house,
Where, like a prince, I live at ease.
What care I for hail or sleet,
With my cozy cap and coat;
And my tail about my feet,
Or wrapped about my throat?
Norman Macleod
Ducks and Ducklings
One little white duck,
One little grey,
Six little black ducks
Running out to play;
One white lady-duck,
Motherly and trim,
Eight little baby ducks
Bound for a swim.
One little white duck
Running from the water,
One very fat duck--
Pretty little daughter--
One little grey duck
Holding up its wings.
One little bobbing duck
Making water rings.
One little black duck
Standing on a stone,
One little grey duck
Swimming all alone,
One little grey duck