Classic Poem

A poor little toadie lived under a stone,
With nettles o'ershadowed, with lichens o'ergrown;
A Wheat-ear, of covetous spirit possest,
Resolved to obtain the snug hole for his nest.

Said he, " Shall an animal, squalid and squat,
Inhabit this cozy desirable grot;
While I and my wife must ramble and roam,
To find a fit place for our nursery home?"

So saying, by dint of hard scratches and pecks,
And doing his utmost to harry and vex,
He forced the poor toad to abandon his cell,
And entered therein with his partner to dwell.

A warm little nest in this cave to construct,
The long trailing stems and dry glasses they plucked;
They lined it with feathers, with wool and with hair,
Which furzes from wandering animals tear.

Six delicate eggs of a soft bluish white,
The couple soon viewed with unmingled delight;
" My dear", said the father, " that day will be blest,
When first our young Wheat-ears take wing from the nest".

One morn he went forth, and was hopping hard by,
Intending his wife's noon-day meal to supply;
A feast he expected, the snails seemed so rife,
When down came the harrier, and ended his life.

For many an hour did his poor hungry mate
Her spouse's return with impatience await;
He never came back for her wants to provide;
Of sorrow and famine, poor birdie! she died.

Her relics were gnawed by the carrion crow,
And flies in the cave did the maggots bestow;
The eggs which the pair had so anxiously cherished
Were sucked by the magpies — or otherwise perished.

And thus was the grotto restored to the toad,
Who gladly hopped back to his former abode;
In safety dwelt he, for so livid a fright
Was even disdained by the hunger-starved kite.

Now this you may learn both from rhymers and preachers,
'Tis wicked to injure the meanest of creatures;
Tyrannical tempers we all should control,
Nor even expel an old Toad from his hole.