Classic Poem

A SERPENT in his glitt'ring pride,
A harmless sparrow's nest espy'd;
To mischief prone, with savage joy
He sought the nestlings to destroy.
He mark'd the place, then chose an hour,
In secret silence to devour,
Just while the parent was away,
Whose cries might rob him of his prey.
This to effect requir'd some art,
But cunning was the spoiler's part;
Cunning with cruelty combin'd,
The trait of all the serpent kind.
The tree he climbs where rest the brood,
And makes six little ones his food.
Descending, with the banquet cloy'd,
The recent murders he enjoy'd.
But lo! there darted from above
An Eagle (call'd the bird of Jove),
Who saw the serpent lie beneath,
And mark'd him out for instant death,
With such a promis'd feast well pleas'd,
The destin'd prey at once he seiz'd,
Who, trembling, struggling, all in vain,
Fail'd not most loudly to complain.
The Eagle's breast with anger burn'd,
And straight this answer he return'd:
" Have I not seen from yonder sky,
" What lawless deeds thy wants supply?
" Hast thou not us'd thy skill and power,
" The sparrow's offspring to devour?
" If these you claim as proper food,
" So are to me the Serpent brood.
" Then know thy plaints are all too late,
" Nor hope to fly from certain fate. "
He said. — His talons he apply'd;
The Serpent unlamented died.