Pythagoras And Countryman.

        Pythagoras, at daybreak drawn
        To meditate on dewy lawn,
        To breathe the fragrance of the morning,
        And, like philosophers, all scorning
        To think or care where he was bound,
        Fell on a farm. A hammer's sound
        Arrested then his thoughts and ear:

        "My man, what are you doing there?"

        The clown stood on a ladder's rung,
        And answered him with rudish tongue:
        "I've caught the villain - this here kite
        Kept my hens ever in a fright;
        I've nailed he here to my barn-door,
        Him shan't steal turkey-pouts no more."
        And lo! upon the door displayed,
        The caitiff kite his forfeit paid.

        "Friend," said Pythagoras, "'tis right
        To murder a marauding kite;
        But, by analogy, that glutton -
        That man who feasts on beef and mutton -
        I say, - that by analogy, -
        The man who eats a chick should die.
        'Tis insolence of power and might
        When man, the glutton, kills the kite."

        The clown, who heard Pythagoras,
        Waxed in a rage, called him an ass;
        Said man was lord of all creation.

        "Man," the sage answered, sans sensation,
        "You murder hawks and kites, lest they
        Should rob you of your fatted prey;
        And that great rogues may hold their state,
        The petty rascal meets his fate."