to her hideous wail.
Nor night, nor charms of sweet repose,
Could still the loud lament that rose
From that grim forest queen.
No animal, as you might think,
With such a noise could sleep a wink.
A bear presumed to intervene.
"One word, sweet friend," quoth she,
"And that is all, from me.
The young that through your teeth have pass'd,
In file unbroken by a fast,
Had they nor dam nor sire?"
"They had them both." "Then I desire,
Since all their deaths caused no such grievous riot,
While mothers died of grief beneath your fiat,
To know why you yourself cannot be quiet?"
"I quiet!--I!--a wretch bereaved!
My only son!--such anguish be relieved!
No, never! All for me below
Is but a life of tears and woe!"--
"But say, why doom yourself to sorrow so?"--
"Alas! 'tis Destiny that is my foe."

_Such language, since the mortal fall,_
_Has fallen from the lips of all._
_Ye human wretches, give your heed;_
_For your complaints there's little need._
_Let him who thinks his own the hardest case,_
_Some widowed, childless Hecuba behold,_
_Herself to toil and shame of slavery sold,_
_And he will own the wealth of heavenly grace._

[Illustration: THE LIONESS AND THE BEAR.]

The Mice and the Owl.

A pine was by a woodman fell'd,
Which ancient, huge, and hollow tree
An owl had for his palace held--
A bird the Fates had kept in fee,
Interpreter to such as we.
Within the caverns of the pine,
With other tenants of that mine,
Were found full many footless mice,
But well provision'd, fat, and nice.
The bird had bit off all their feet,
And fed them there with heaps of wheat.
That this owl reason'd, who can doubt?
When to the chase he first went out,
And home alive the vermin brought,
Which in his talons he had caught,
The nimble creatures ran away.
Next time, resolved to make them stay,
He cropp'd their legs, and found, with pleasure,
That he could eat them at his leisure;
It were impossible to eat
Them all at once, did health permit.
His foresight, equal to our own,
In furnishing their food was shown.
Now, let Cartesians, if they can,
P