The Contest of Birds Dedicated to all the Excellent The Eagle which at Jove's right hand Was wont to take imperial stand, Proud of his perch, and with fond beak The Thund'rer's fondling finger tweak, Or blinking in sage thought t' assume Half sov'reignty and weigh the doom, Was sick; for the World he sigh'd, His Mountains and his Forests wide; So true it is, not Jove's right hand Is worth to us our Native Land, And that the Little we have not Can make the Much we have forgot. Therefore to earth with arching vans, Released a while, the sky he spans In flight; sinks thro' the tempest; takes The feather-fretting aid of wind; And now, new born with pleasure, breaks Upon a beauteous Vale confined. Now it is said that on that day All Birds that are had ceased their play, And question'd, each with heat and brawl, Which was the noblest of them all: Who when they saw the Eagle stand Amidst them (now unused to stand Upon the dull, flat, level earth) Burst into loud contemptuous mirth. 'It seems,' exclaimed a civil Crow, 'You come here, friend, quite apropos. For we discuss'd the noblest here, And you are truly the most queer. Your wings and tail, excuse me friend, Seem too long for your other end. Pray change your--if I may suggest-- Your tailor and be better dress'd. Look at myself how neat I go, And in the latest fashion too.' 'Or were your plumes, my friend, more bright We could excuse your homely plight,' The Peacock said: 'pray just admire My plumes of azure, gold and fire. My dames about me ever move In wonder, and confess their love. Whene'er I show myself,' said he, 'The Gods look down from Heaven to see.' 'Base virtues of the body!' cried The Parrot. 'Is the soul denied? Know friend that beauteous words are worth More than these qualities of earth. How wise I am admire, and know It is by study I am so. Still lost in contemplation I Quite understand the earth and sky; Can talk of wonders without end, More e'en than I can comprehend; Or say the wisest words, I ween, Although I don't know what they mean.' 'Pshaw!' said the Vulture, 'fair or wise, You shall some day become my prize. Your merits shall be mine, 'od shake 'em, Whenever I may choose to take 'em; And when I have digested you Your virtues shall become mine too. As for our friend the new arrival, If he contend to be my rival, Let's fight it out in heaven's name!' 'What base arbitrement! for shame!' Exclaimed the mincing Nightingale. 'If he aspire let him prevail Against me in the test of song Where he who triumphs is most strong.' 'Beware of pride,' the Dodo said; 'I see that all of you are led Astray by arrogance. For me, I glory in humility. I am so humble I confess My utter wicked worthlessness. I say with tears'--and here he blows The part that should have been his nose-- 'I say with tears I dote upon Being beaten, bruised and trampled on. I love to be reminded still Of all my faults and treated ill. So 'tis, I think, confess'd by all My virtue's not equivocal.' 'To me,' the lofty Stork aver'd, 'This seems a most plebeian bird. With nails so long and legs so short, He cannot be of noble sort; Tho' in his nose, I must confess, I see some sign of gentleness. I cannot really stoop so far (Whom all the Frogs and Mice in war Already have confess'd their king) As rival this uncrowned thing. My subjects would at once repine Nor let me eat 'em, I opine, As all contented subjects should, Did I disgrace my royal blood.' Which heard, the fiery Eagle's eyes With noble anger and surprise Flash'd out. 'Still dear what is most cheap Ye little woodland creatures keep,' He cried; and flung aloft his head, Gazed up to heaven, his pinions spread (The wind of which made timorous stir Among the things that round him were) And leaping on the air begun Ascent, and vanish'd in the sun.