The Heron by Jean de La Fontaine — Read

One day, -- no matter when or where, -- / A long-legg'd heron chanced to fare / By a certain river's brink, / With his long, sharp beak / Helved on his slender neck; / 'Twas a fish-spear, you might think. / The water was clear and still, / The carp and the pike there at will / Pursued their silent fun, / Turning up, ever and anon, / A golden side to the sun. / With ease might the heron have made / Great profits in his fishing trade. / So near came the scaly fry, / They might be caught by the passer-by. / But he thought he better might / Wait for a better appetite -- / For he lived by rule, and could not eat, / Except at his hours, the best of meat. / Anon his appetite return'd once more; / So, approaching again the shore, / He saw some tench taking their leaps, / Now and then, from their lowest deeps. / With as dainty a taste as Horace's rat, / He turn'd away from such food as that. / 'What, tench for a heron! poh! / I scorn the thought, and let them go. ' / The tench refused, there came a gudgeon; / 'For all that,' said the bird, 'I budge on. / I'll ne'er open my beak, if the gods please, / For such mean little fishes as these. ' / He did it for less; / For it came to pass, / That not another fish could he see; / And, at last, so hungry was he, / That he thought it of some avail / To find on the bank a single snail. / Such is the sure result / Of being too difficult. / Would you be strong and great, / Learn to accommodate. / Get what you can, and trust for the rest; / The whole is oft lost by seeking the best. / Above all things beware of disdain; / Where, at most, you have little to gain. / The people are many that make / Every day this sad mistake. / 'Tis not for the herons I put this case, / Ye featherless people, of human race. / -- List to another tale as true, / And you'll hear the lesson brought home to you.[1][2]

[1]: _The lesson brought home to you_. The two last lines refer the reader to the next fable.