Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WOLF AND WOODEN BEAUTY. AN OLD FABLE NEWLY VAMPED, by ROYALL TYLER


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WOLF AND WOODEN BEAUTY. AN OLD FABLE NEWLY VAMPED, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Once on a time a wolf did pop
Last Line: Think of the wolf and carver's shop.
Alternate Author Name(s): Old Simon; S.
Subject(s): Fables; Wolves; Allegories


ONCE on a time a Wolf did pop
His head into a Carver's shop,
And there espied a bust of wood,
Made to resemble flesh and blood,
With eyes so black and skin so fair,
And arched brows and curled hair,
With pouting lips, and bosom's swell,
Cheeks painted like a modern belle,
Features in the most tonnish style,
Which simpered a perpetual smile.
He took her for a bright beauty's goddess,
With cestus round her Paphian boddice.
But the poor beast had never seen
The blooming charms of Charlotte --
For had he known the lovelier Charlotte,
He'd thought not on that heavenly harlot,
"O Jove," he cried, "what pangs I feel;
How handsome, dashy and genteel;
If such her outward form I find,
What are the beauties of her mind!
Sure she that's so divinely pretty
Must be supremely wise and witty."

He bowed and scraped, first at a distance;
But finding she made no resistance,
And to his flatteries all the while
Kept up the same enchanting smile,
Like brisk gallant whose roguish trade is
To steal the hearts of simple ladies,
Who when he hopes to gain their favour,
Still takes his cue from their behaviour,
And still applies his arts ensnaring,
Till frowns repulsive check his daring.
So Isgrim made more bold advances
Lured by his timberlove's kind glances;
At length he dared assail her honour
And clapped his brutal paw upon her.
But when he found her made of wood,
In dumb perplexity he stood,
Then pawed the souless beauty o'er,
And finding her a horrid bore,
He thus exclaimed -- "Ah what a bite,
This comes from loving at first sight!
Thy features, mien, and tonnish dress,
Seem formed a lover's heart to bless;
But ah! within thy pretty skull,
How mean, how empty and how dull,
Beauty, 'tis true, all hearts enflames,
But what is beauty without brains?"
He said no more, but with a hop,
Growling contempt, he left the shop.

"What have we here?" the Cynick cries,
With frowning brow and critick eyes --
"What childish prattle 'tis to tell
Of talking beast and wooden belle!
A nursery tale, and only meet
To lull a brawling brat to sleep.
Shall we, in this enlightened age,
Quit the delights of Shakespeare's page,
Leave plays and novels and romances
For such poor mawkish childish fancies?
In school-boy days we had enough
Of Aesop's tales, and such like stuff."

But stop, my snarling, pride-puffed Cynick,
This tale has got a moral in it:
And this same moral may apply
Perhaps to boys of six feet high.
Have you not seen? -- come, tell me truly,
(I know they're scarce as frost in July,)
Some female heads, no matter where,
Perhaps in Maine, or Delaware,
In Narraganset, or Patucket,
Or Martha's Vineyard, or Nantucket,
For wheresoe'er you did accost one,
We know 'twas not in town of Boston;
For there the gentlemen will swear
The ladies are as wise as fair.
Have you not seen some female noddles
As beautiful as Grecian models,
Made perfect by the hand of nature
With nicest symmetry of feature,
With spangled combs and gay egretts,
Or frizelled, jewelled, smart frizetts,
With essence, curling and pomatum,
Made fine as Lane or Swett could make 'em --
Faces that might with Venus vie,
Or give to Helen's charms the lie;
Eyes, which sparkled with love's wiles;
Cheeks dimpling forth perpetual smiles;
And coral lips, which op'd beneath,
Not to converse, but, show pearl teeth;
Have you not seen? -- Zounds, stop your pen;
Yes, I have seen -- and pray what then?

Then if you seek to choose a wife,
To comfort, stay, enliven life,
Not the companion of a day,
But help-meet on life's weary way;
Not she who thinks that life was made
For dress, and flutter, and parade;
Who, scorning sweet domestick duty,
Sighs for the sovereignty of beauty,
And at the play house, mall, or ball,
Though bound to one, would conquer all --
But she who fills with nobler pride,
That female throne, the fire side;
Who, with her bridal dress, lays by
The whims of girlish vanity;
And, in their stead, with pride embraces
The modest matron's solid graces;
Who seeks alone the toilet's aid,
To keep the conquest she has made
And makes, and seeks to make alone,
Your interests, cares, and joys her own.

And, should life's olive branches rise
To bless your fond parental eyes,
SHE who with all a mother's care,
The nursling plants can fondly rear;
The excrescent shoots with firmness prune,
Each noxious weed with care consume,
Till, nurtured by her fostering hand,
The rising plants grow and expand;
Bud, blossom, bear -- while each survives,
The ripened fruits of virtuous lives.

Or should misfortunes dire assail,
And friends look cold and credit fail,
She who through each distressing scene,
Is prudent, constant, and serene;
Who, when woes cluster, and the frown
Of wealth unfeeling, weighs you down,
With sweet affection's kindly power,
Sustains you in that trying hour;
Or, on her fond and faithful breast,
Lulls all your sorrows into rest. --
When sickness comes, (as come it must,
To us, weak children of the dust;
For life, when all its joys we have,
Is but a turnpike to the grave;
And fever, cholick, stone and gout,
Are but mere guide posts on the rout.) --
When sickness comes, and fever dire
Awakes its slow consuming fire,
Or, when enraged, the tyrant reigns
Triumphant in your mantling veins;
When watchers fail, and nurses tire,
And hope seems ready to expire,
SHE, who with ever ready hand,
Takes by your side her patient stand;
With velvet step draws nigh your bed,
The pillow smooths beneath your head;
Cools your parch'd tongue with proffer'd sweets;
Though oft repulsed with kindness greets;
With languid smile can still sustain
The wayward petulance of pain,
Echo your groans, your sighs renew,
And seem to suffer more than you.

Come, youthful Bachelors, be candid,
Nor use me as that cynick man did --
An honest answer I require --
Is this the wife that you desire?
If so, before you rashly wed,
Muse on the simple tale you've read;
Before you tie the fatal knot,
Think of the Wolf and Carver's Shop.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net