The Wolf and the Lean Dog by Jean de La Fontaine

A troutling, some time since,[1] / Endeavour'd vainly to convince / A hungry fisherman / Of his unfitness for the frying-pan. / That controversy made it plain / That letting go a good secure, / In hope of future gain, / Is but imprudence pure. / The fisherman had reason good -- / The troutling did the best he could -- / Both argued for their lives. / Now, if my present purpose thrives, / I'll prop my former proposition / By building on a small addition. / A certain wolf, in point of wit / The prudent fisher's opposite, / A dog once finding far astray, / Prepared to take him as his prey. / The dog his leanness pled; / 'Your lordship, sure,' he said, / 'Cannot be very eager / To eat a dog so meagre. / To wait a little do not grudge: / The wedding of my master's only daughter / Will cause of fatted calves and fowls a slaughter; / And then, as you yourself can judge, / I cannot help becoming fatter. ' / The wolf, believing, waived the matter, / And so, some days therefrom, / Return'd with sole design to see / If fat enough his dog might be. / The rogue was now at home: / He saw the hunter through the fence. / 'My friend,' said he, 'please wait; / I'll be with you a moment hence, / And fetch our porter of the gate. ' / This porter was a dog immense, / That left to wolves no future tense. / Suspicion gave our wolf a jog, -- / It might not be so safely tamper'd. / 'My service to your porter dog,' / Was his reply, as off he scamper'd. / His legs proved better than his head, / And saved him life to learn his trade.[2]

[1]: _A troutling_. -- See Book V., Fable III. -- Translator.