The Swan and the Linnet
Piqued at the Linnet’s song one day,
The Swan exclaimed: “Leave off! I say—
Be still, you little noisy thing!
What!—dare you challenge me to sing,
When there’s no voice, however fine,
Can match the melody of mine?”
(The Linnet warbled on)—“D’ye hear?
This impudence may cost you dear;
I could with one harmonious note
Forever stop your squeaking throat,
And, if I do not choose to try,
Respect my magnanimity.”
“I wish,” at length the Linnet said,
“I wish, to heaven, the proof were made;
You cannot imagine how I long
To hear that rich and flowing song
Which though so sweet, by fame averred,
I know not who has ever heard.”
The Swan essayed to sing, but—whew!
She screeched and squalled a note or two,
Until the Linnet, it appears,
Took to her wings to save her ears.
’Tis strange when some of learned fame
Will prove their title to the name,
How often ill-placed praise they mar,
And show how ignorant they are.