38

FAVOURITE FABLES.

In plenty thus the summer passed ;
Revolving winter came at last :
The trees no more a shelter yield ;
The verdure withers from the field :
Perpetual snows invest the ground ;
In icy chains the streams are bound :
Cold, nipping winds, and rattling hail,
His lank, unsheltered sides assail.

As round he cast his rueful eyes,
He saw the thatched-roof cottage rise:
The prospect touched his heart with cheer,
And promised kind deliverance near.
A stable, erst his scorn and hate,
Was now become his wished retreat ;
His passion cool, his pride forgot,
A Farmer’s welcome yard he sought.

The master saw his woful plight,
His limbs, that tottered with his weight,
And, friendly, to the stable led,
And saw him littered, dressed, and fed.
In slothful ease all night he lay ;
The servants rose at break of day ;
The market calls. Along the road 3
His back must bear the pond’rous load ;