Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CVII and CVIII
FABLE CVII.
JUPITER AND THE FARMER.
Jupiter had a farm to give away;
Mercury told the world the chosen day.
The people came to offer, rough they were, And listened grimly.
One said it was bare And stubborn land; another half agreed.
While they thus haggled, churlishly indeed, One bolder than the rest--but wiser?
--no-- Consents to take it, if Jove only grant The climate that he wishes; he will plant, And sow, and reap, if but the heat and cold May come and go, like slaves, as they are told.
The seasons wait his nod: the wet and dry Obey his bidding from a servile sky.
Jove grants his wish--our foolish fellow sways His sceptre bravely--rains and blows for days;
Makes his own climate just as he may please: His neighbours, no more than Antipodes, Share his good weather.
Still as well they fare;
Their barns are teeming full; but his art bare.
The next year quite a change; another way He sets the seasons, watching day by day: Still, there's some flaw--his crops are thin and poor, While loaded waggons crowd his neighbour's door.
What can he do?
--he falls before Jove's throne, Confesses all his folly: he alone Has been to blame.
Jove, with much gentleness, Like a mild master, pities his distress.
It is agreed that Providence is kind, And knows far better than a human mind What's good for us, and calmly bids us do it: We seldom see our way till we are through it.
FABLE CVIII.
THE STAG VIEWING HIMSELF IN THE STREAM.
Beside a fountain in the wood A royal Stag admiring stood: His antlers pleased him well.
But one thing vexed him to the heart: His slender legs ill matched the part On which he loved to dwell.
"Nature has shaped them ill," said he, Watching their shadows peevishly: "Here is a disproportion!
My horns rise branching, tall, and proud;
My legs disgrace them, 'tis allowed, And are but an abortion."
[Illustration: THE STAG VIEWING HIMSELF IN THE STREAM.
] Just then a deer-hound frightened him, And lent a wing to every limb.
O'er bush and brake--he's off!
At those adornments on his brow The foolish creature praised just now He soon begins to scoff.
Upon his legs his life depends: They are his best and only friends.
He unsays every word, And curses Heaven, that has sent A dangerous gift.
We all repent Speeches that are absurd.
We prize too much the beautiful, And useful things spurn (as a rule);
Yet fast will beauty fleet.
The Stag admired the antlers high, That brought him into jeopardy, And blamed his kindly feet.
