Classic Poem

A milkman had a share of land,
And on it kept ten cows in hand,
And sold their milk for tea or meats
To housekeepers along the streets.

The cows had overheard him say
To some old friend, on some fine day,
‘My milk sale now increases fast,
'Tis more this summer than the last.’
So when his friend was gone a cow
Came to him, up behind a mow,
And said, ‘O, sir, had you foreweighed
Within your mind the words you said?
You milk no other cows, you know,
Than those you milk'd a year ago;
And we can see that, cow by cow,
We gave as much milk then as now.’
‘Tush,’ says the man, ‘you all but calf,
Your silliness but makes me laugh;
'Tis something to your praise to tell
A man you fill the pail so well.’
‘Aye, aye,’ the red old milcher said;
‘Aye, aye,’ and shook her wide-horn'd head;
‘If we are ever praised for muchness,
I fear that we are blamed for suchness.
If you sell more of milk, folk say,
'Tis all as watery as whey.’

This fable shows that no pure meeds
Of good will come of evil deeds:
Try evil-doing how you will,
Its little good brings greater ill.