قراءة كتاب The Peacock 'At Home' AND The Butterfly's Ball AND The Fancy Fair
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اللغة: English
The Peacock 'At Home' AND The Butterfly's Ball AND The Fancy Fair
الصفحة رقم: 7
Martin, and then,
Bill Bullfinch, Tom Titmouse, and Rosanna Wren.
But however select the fair party may be,
Where beauty and fashion preside, we shall see
Some characters doubtful that all should beware,
And it can’t be denied that a few such were there.
Those cut-throats the Sparrows, that robber the Daw,
Who was pluck’d for his open contempt of the law;
The pilferer Cuckoo, whom all must despise,
And the chattering Jay, who tells nothing but lies;
While the green-mantled, light-hearted Love-birds, ’tis said,
Had been sipping too much, for their noses were red.
How often it is, when the sun is most bright,
That a dark cloud approaches, obscuring his light!
And pleasure gives place to a dark crowd of cares.
The Trees were all lively, the Beasts were content,
And the beautiful Birds on their pleasure were bent,
Nothing doubting the multitude, struck with amaze,
Came to gaze on their beauty and speak in their praise
When they saw that the crowd by degrees had retired,
And that they left alone were no longer admired;
They gazed on the Booths that were aptly design’d
To display the fair merchandize art had combined;
They look’d on the spot in wrath, spleen, and despair,
Rank, Beauty, Taste, Fashion, and Fancy were there,
And the multitudes round such attractions preferr’d
To a gambolling beast or a chattering bird.
Now Envy first enter’d the fair feather’d race,
And invective and dissonance rung round the place;
Their pleasure, their pride, and contentment were o’er,
And Discord presided where Peace was before.
In the midst of the hubbub and riot around,
The Trees were absorb’d in a silence profound,
His rooted dislike to the booth-loving train.
He branch’d out in florid descriptions to show
That they all ought to stand on their stumps in a row
In defence of their rights, now that underlings drew
That applause and renown which had long been their due.
Then the Oak raised his head, rather hoary with age,
And shook his broad arms in the air in a rage,
And exhorted them all with a feeling of pride,
To maintain their ground firmly, whate’er might betide.
The Giant Elm follow’d and proudly look’d down
On the pitiful plots of their foes with a frown.
The Ash, pale with anger, derided “the crew,”
And the smooth-temper’d Purple Beech look’d rather blue.
The Chesnut grew heated, and roasted them well;
And bitter the taunts of the Almond-tree fell.
The Apple and Pear both maintain’d, in their spleen,
That the fruit of their folly would shortly be seen.
The Laburnum, the Lime, and the Beech seem’d afraid,
But the Hawthorn was pointed in all that she said,
Like pellets from popguns they rattled around.
Discontented and moody the Drooping Larch lower’d,
The Crab knit his brows, for his temper was sour’d;
While the Birch-tree declared that the ill-fated elves,
Their opponents, were making a rod for themselves.
With wrath and vexation the Maple ran o’er;
The Aspen-tree trembled, the Willow wept sore;
The Tulip-tree blush’d, and the Sumach-tree sigh’d,
And the Dyer’s Oak thought it a stain on their pride.
The Fir stood erect, for he seem’d to opine
That their sun for a very brief season would shine;
While the well-meaning Walnut, foreboding their fall,
Crack’d a joke, for he cared not a fig for them all.
The Poplar drew up with a feeling of scorn,
And the Cypress looked sad, and the Yew was forlorn.
The Plane smoothly spoke, and the Hazel the same,
But the Scarlet Oak redden’d with anger and shame.
At last they resolved, to blot out the disgrace,
To stand fast by each other adorning the place;
But to come out next spring with a Fair of their own.
While the war-whoop was raised by the Birds and the Trees,
The Beasts were impatient to blow up a breeze.
The Lion began with a royal bewail,
And furiously lash’d both his sides with his tail.
As he stalk’d through his den, his wild eyes glared around,
And his roar seem’d to come from far under the ground.
His anger, disdain, and despair wanted scope,
So he wish’d himself back at the Cape of Good Hope.
The Tiger extended, in uttering a roar,
A mouth that you might have mistook for the door;
But in such a dilemma, I warn you, beware
How you enter in haste such a dark thoroughfare;
For all who have pass’d through the passage they say,
Have terribly painted their coats by the way.
Poor Bruin declared it was unbearable quite,
And was in a brown study till day turn’d to night;
The Axis turn’d round in his rage, and just then
The Sloth look’d as black as the ink in my pen.
Pale as ashes with anger he could not restrain;
The Llama indignantly felt the disgrace,
And spirted saliva in every one’s face;
In fury the Mastiff bark’d loud for relief;
The poor patient Camel was laden with grief;
The Antelope wisely eloped from the fray,
But the Springbok was booked for the rest of the day.
The wrath of the Leopard then rose on the gale,
And broke out in dark spots from his head to his tail;
The Civet Cat mew’d, and did nothing but fret,
And the stripes of the Zebra were blacker than jet;
The Opossum was posed, and looked wondrously sage,
And the Red Coati Mondi turned sallow with rage;
The Hyæna declared in a quarrelsome mood,
He would instantly break through his den—if he could:
And the Moose Deer in ire would have bit his lip through,
But he found it already divided in two.
The Schoolmaster Porcupine rang, too, the chimes,—
He declar’d that he’d send an address
