The Eagle said. The Owl replied:
"My little ones, I say with pride,
For grace of form cannot be match'dā
The prettiest birds that e'er were hatch'd;
By this you cannot fail to know them;
'Tis needless, therefore, that I show them."
At length God gives the Owl some heirs,
And while at early eve abroad he fares,
In quest of birds and mice for food,
Our Eagle haply spies the brood,
As on some craggy rock they sprawl,
Or nestle in some ruined wall,
(But which it matters not at all,)
And thinks them ugly little frights,
Grim, sad, with voice like shrieking sprites.
"These chicks," says he, "with looks almost infernal,
Can't be the darlings of our friend nocturnal.
I'll sup of them." And so he did, not slightly:
He never sups, if he can help it, lightly.
The Owl return'd; and, sad, he found
Nought left but claws upon the ground.
He pray'd the gods above and gods below
To smite the brigand who had caused his woe.
Quoth one, "On you alone the blame must fall;
Thinking your like the loveliest of all,
You told the Eagle of your young ones' graces;
You gave the picture of their faces:
Had it of likeness any traces?"The Earthen Pot and the Iron Pot
An Iron Pot proposed
To an Earthen Pot a journey.
The latter was opposed,
Expressing the concern he
Had felt about the danger
Of going out a ranger.