The Crow And The Turkey
: Literary Fables Of Yriarte
A bitter contest once did spring,--
No matter how the fact I know,--
On their respective speed of wing,
Between a Turkey and a Crow.
Which first would reach the appointed station,
Sure you can tell, as well as I,
Without much grave consideration,
If you have ever seen them fly.
"Look here," the loitering Turkey cries
To Crow, half vanished out of view;
"The thought will to my mind arise
That you are black and ugly too.
Moreover, I have always heard,"--
She shouts still louder after him,--
"You are a most unlucky bird,
Foreboding naught but evils grim.
Begone from sight, disgusting beast!
You fairly do my stomach turn;
Making your foul, revolting feast
On carrion corpse that dogs would spurn."
"All this is nothing to the case,"
Answered the Crow, far off in air;
"The only question now in place
Is of our flight a trial fair."
* * * * *
When envious detractors find
In wise men's works, no welcome faults,
They satisfy their spiteful mind
By base and personal assaults.