The Ass Carrying Relics
An Ass, with relics for his load,
Supposed the worship on the road
Meant for himself alone,
And took on lofty airs,
Receiving as his own
The incense and the prayers.
Some one, who saw his great mistake,
Cried, “Master Donkey, do not make
Yourself so big a fool.
Not you they worship, but your pack;
They praise the idols on your back,
And count yourself a paltry tool.”
’Tis thus a brainless magistrate
Is honoured for his robe of state.
The Two Mules
Two Mules were bearing on their backs,
One, oats; the other, silver of the tax.
The latter glorying in his load,
March’d proudly forward on the road;
And, from the jingle of his bell,
’Twas plain he liked his burden well.
But in a wild-wood glen
A band of robber men
Rush’d forth upon the twain.
Well with the silver pleased,
They by the bridle seized
The treasure Mule so vain.
Poor Mule! in struggling to repel
His ruthless foes, he fell
Stabb’d through; and with a bitter sighing,
He cried: “Is this the lot they promised me?
My humble friend from danger free,
While, weltering in my gore, I’m dying?”
“My friend,” his fellow-mule replied,
“It is not well to have one’s work too high.
If thou hadst been a miller’s drudge, as I,
Thou wouldst not thus have died.”