The Hare and the Partridge

Beware how you deride / The exiles from life's sunny side: / To you is little known / How soon their case may be your own. / On this, sage Aesop gives a tale or two, / As in my verses I propose to do. / A field in common share / A partridge and a hare, / And live in peaceful state, / Till, woeful to relate! / The hunters' mingled cry / Compels the hare to fly. / He hurries to his fort, / And spoils almost the sport / By faulting every hound / That yelps upon the ground. / At last his reeking heat / Betrays his snug retreat. / Old Tray, with philosophic nose, / Snuffs carefully, and grows / So certain, that he cries, / 'The hare is here; bow wow! ' / And veteran Ranger now, -- / The dog that never lies, -- / 'The hare is gone,' replies. / Alas! poor, wretched hare, / Back comes he to his lair, / To meet destruction there! / The partridge, void of fear, / Begins her friend to jeer: -- / 'You bragg'd of being fleet; / How serve you, now, your feet? ' / Scarce has she ceased to speak, -- / The laugh yet in her beak, -- / When comes her turn to die, / From which she could not fly. / She thought her wings, indeed, / Enough for every need; / But in her laugh and talk, / Forgot the cruel hawk!