A lion, bravest of the wood,
Whose title undisputed stood,
As o'er the wide domains he prowl'd,
And in pursuit of booty growl'd,
An Echo from a distant cave
Regrowl'd, articulately grave:
His majesty, surprised, began
To think at first it was a man;
But on reflection sage, he found
It was too like a lion's sound.
"Whose voice is that which growls at mine?"
His highness ask'd. Says Echo, "Mine!"
"Thine!" says the Lion: "Who art thou?"
Echo as stern cried, "Who art thou?"
"Know I'm a lion, hear and tremble!"
Replied the king. Cried Echo, "Tremble!"
"Come forth," says Lion; "show thyself."
Laconic Echo answered, "Elf."
"Elf, durst thou call me, vile pretender?"
Echo as loud replies, "Pretender!"
At this, as jealous of his reign,
He growl'd in rage; she growl'd again.
Incensed the more, he chafed and foam'd,
And round the spacious forest roam'd
To find the rival of his throne,
Who durst with him dispute the crown.
A fox, who listen'd all the while,
Address'd the monarch with a smile:
"My liege, most humbly I make bold,
Though truth may not be always told,
That this same phantom which you hear,
That so alarms your royal ear,
Is not a rival of your throne:
The voice and fears are all your own."
Imaginary terrors scare
A timorous soul with real fear;
Nay, even the wise and brave are cow'd
By apprehensions from the crowd:
A frog a lion may disharm,
And yet how causeless the alarm!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]