Make bold to ask you what your name may be.” 
    The Horse, an animal with brains enough,
  Replied, “Sirs, you yourselves may read my name;
  My shoer round my heel hath writ the same.” 
  The Fox excus’d himself for want of knowledge: 
    “Me, sir, my parents did not educate,
    So poor, a hole was their entire estate. 
  My friend, the Wolf, however, taught at college,
      Could read it, were it even Greek.” 
        The Wolf, to flattery weak,
      Approached to verify the boast;
      For which four teeth he lost. 
  The high raised hoof came down with such a blow
  As laid him bleeding on the ground full low. 
  “My brother,” said the Fox, “this shows how just
    What once was taught me by a fox of wit—­
    Which on thy jaws this animal hath writ—­
  ‘All unknown things the wise mistrust.’”

  The Woodman and Mercury

  A Man that laboured in the wood
    Had lost his honest livelihood;
      That is to say,
  His axe was gone astray. 
  He had no tools to spare;
  This wholly earn’d his fare. 
  Without a hope beside,
  He sat him down and cried,
  “Alas, my axe! where can it be? 
  O Jove! but send it back to me,
  And it shall strike good blows for thee.” 
  His prayer in high Olympus heard,
  Swift Mercury started at the word. 
  “Your axe must not be lost,” said he: 
  “Now, will you know it when you see? 
  An axe I found upon the road.” 
  With that an axe of gold he show’d. 
  “Is’t this?” The Woodman answer’d, “Nay.” 
  An axe of silver, bright and gay,
  Refused the honest Woodman too. 
  At last the finder brought to view
  An axe of iron, steel, and wood. 
  “That’s mine,” he said, in joyful mood;
  “With that I’ll quite contented be.” 
  The god replied, “I give the three,
  As due reward of honesty.” 
  This luck when neighbouring choppers knew,
  They lost their axes, not a few,
  And sent their prayers to Jupiter
  So fast, he knew not which to hear. 
  His winged son, however, sent
  With gold and silver axes, went. 
  Each would have thought himself a fool
  Not to have own’d the richest tool. 
  But Mercury promptly gave, instead
  Of it, a blow upon the head.

With simple truth to be contented, Is surest not to be repented:  But still there are who would With evil trap the good, Whose cunning is but stupid, For Jove is never duped.

  The Eagle and the Owl

    The Eagle and the Owl, resolved to cease
    Their war, embraced in pledge of peace. 
  On faith of King, on faith of Owl, they swore
  That they would eat each other’s chicks no more. 
    “But know you mine?” said Wisdom’s bird. 
      “Not I, indeed,” the Eagle cried. 
      “The worse for that,” the Owl replied: 
    “I fear your oath’s a useless word;