Expedients may be too many,
    Consuming time to choose and try. 
  On one, but that as good as any,
    ’Tis best in danger to rely.

  The City Rat and the Country Rat

  A city Rat, one night
    Did with a civil stoop
  A Country Rat invite
    To end a turtle soup.

  Upon a Turkey carpet
    They found the table spread,
  And sure I need not harp it
    How well the fellows fed.

  The entertainment was
    A truly noble one;
  But some unlucky cause
    Disturbed it when begun

  It was a slight rat-tat,
    That put their Joys to rout;
  Out ran the City Rat;
    His guest, too, scampered out.

  Our rats but fairly quit,
    The fearful knocking ceased,
  “Return we,” said the cit,
    “To finish there our feast.”

  “No,” said the Rustic Rat;
    “To-morrow dine with me. 
  I’m not offended at
    Your feast so grand and free,

  “For I’ve no fare resembling;
    But then I eat at leisure,
  And would not swap for pleasure
    So mixed with fear and trembling.”

  The Ploughman and His Sons

  A wealthy Ploughman drawing near his end
  Call’d in his Sons apart from every friend,
  And said, “When of your sire bereft,
  The heritage our fathers left
  Guard well, nor sell a single field. 
  A treasure in it is conceal’d: 
  The place, precisely, I don’t know,
  But industry will serve to show. 
  The harvest past.  Time’s forelock take,
  And search with plough, and spade, and rake;
  Turn over every inch of sod,
  Nor leave unsearch’d a single clod.” 
  The father died.  The Sons in vain—­
  Turn’d o’er the soil, and o’er again;
  That year their acres bore
  More grain than e’er before. 
  Though hidden money found they none,
  Yet had their Father wisely done,
    To show by such a measure
    That toil itself is treasure.

  The farmer’s patient care and toil
  Are oftener wanting than the soil.

  The Fox, the Wolf, and the Horse

  A Fox, though young, by no means raw,
    Had seen a Horse, the first he ever saw: 
  “Ho! neighbour Wolf,” said he to one quite green,
  “A creature in our meadow I have seen—­
      Sleek, grand!  I seem to see him yet—­
      The finest beast I ever met.” 
      “Is he a stouter one than we?”
      The Wolf demanded, eagerly;
      “Some picture of him let me see.” 
  “If I could paint,” said Fox, “I should delight
  T’ anticipate your pleasure at the sight;
  But come; who knows? perhaps it is a prey
      By fortune offer’d in our way.” 
    They went.  The Horse, turn’d loose to graze,
    Not liking much their looks and ways,
        Was just about to gallop off. 
  “Sir,” said the Fox, “your humble servants, we