The Wolf and The Dog

A prowling wolf, whose shaggy skin

(So strict the watch of dogs had been)

Hid little but his bones,

Once met a mastiff dog astray.

A prouder, fatter, sleeker Tray,

No human mortal owns.

Sir Wolf in famish'd plight,

Would fain have made a ration

Upon his fat relation;

But then he first must fight;

And well the dog seem'd able

To save from wolfish table

His carcass snug and tight.

So, then, in civil conversation

The wolf express'd his admiration

Of Tray's fine case. Said Tray, politely,

“Yourself, good sir, may be as sightly;

Quit but the woods, advised by me.

For all your fellows here, I see,

Are shabby wretches, lean and gaunt,

Belike to die of haggard want.

With such a pack, of course it follows,

One fights for every bit he swallows.

Come, then, with me, and share

On equal terms our princely fare.”

“But what with you

Has one to do?”

Inquires the wolf. “Light work indeed,”

Replies the dog; “you only need

To bark a little now and then,

To chase off duns and beggar men,

To fawn on friends that come or go forth,

Your master please, and so forth;

For which you have to eat

All sorts of well-cook'd meat--

Cold pullets, pigeons, savoury messes--

Besides unnumber'd fond caresses.”

The wolf, by force of appetite,

Accepts the terms outright,

Tears glistening in his eyes.

But faring on, he spies

A gall'd spot on the mastiff's neck.

“What's that?” he cries. “O, nothing but a speck.”

“A speck?” “Ay, ay; “tis not enough to pain me;

Perhaps the collar's mark by which they chain me.”

“Chain! chain you! What! run you not, then,

Just where you please, and when?”

“Not always, sir; but what of that?”

“Enough for me, to spoil your fat!

It ought to be a precious price

Which could to servile chains entice;

For me, I'll shun them while I've wit.”

So ran Sir Wolf, and runneth yet.