A Crow sat perched upon an oak, And in his beak he held a cheese. A Fox snuffed up the savory breeze, And thus in honeyed accent spoke: "O Prince of Crows, such grace of mien Has never in these parts been seen. If but your song be half as good, You are the Phoenix of the wood!" The Crow, beside himself with pleasure, And eager to display his voice, Opened his beak, and dropped his treasure. The Fox was on it in a trice. "Learn, sir," said he, "that flatterers live On those who swallow what they say. A cheese is not too much to give For such a piece of sound advice." The Crow, ashamed to have been such easy prey Swore, but too late, he shouldn't catch him twice. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN SONNET: 17. TO SIR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER by JOHN MILTON CASSANDRA by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON GREAT THOUGHTS by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY PSALM 147 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |