Page 10 - Poetry-Animals

At length, the perils of their journey o’er,
They reach unscathed and sound the sleeping city,
And gain the threshold of town-mouse’s door
Long ere the lark had sung his morning ditty.

They pass through many a room, before, behind,
Here, there, in lower stories and in upper,
Till in a vast saloon at last they find
The glorious relics of a mighty supper.

“Bravo!” cries town mouse, and with smiling face
Seats his rude friend ‘mid fowl, and soup, and fishes;
Himself prepares, with all a mouse’s grace
To do the honours of the ample dishes.

The feast is large and good: th’ astonished friend
Begins to think the city dainties charming,
And town life quite a life he’d like to spend,
When on his ear there falls a sound alarming.

The door wide opens: soon the city mouse
Hides in a hole, and there securely lingers;
The other scampers wildly from the house,
And just escapes the early housemaid’s fingers.

And as, he knows not how, he gains the air,
A sigh of penitent contrition giving,
He cries, “If this be your fine city fare,
I very much prefer plain country living.”

MORAL
Sigh not for the luxurious gifts of heaven;
You’d be no happier though your prayer were granted;
For wishes gained, in six times out of seven,
Bring with them something more than what was wanted.

—M.W. (Leisure Hour, 1860)

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