The Man And The Flea.

^[1]

Impertinent, we tease and weary Heaven
With prayers which would insult mere mortals even.
'Twould seem that not a god in all the skies
From our affairs must ever turn his eyes,
And that the smallest of our race
Could hardly eat, or wash his face,
Without, like Greece and Troy for ten years' space,
Embroiling all Olympus in the case.

A flea some blockhead's shoulder bit,
And then his clothes refused to quit.
'O Hercules,' he cried, 'you ought to purge
This world of this far worse than hydra scourge!
O Jupiter, what are your bolts about,
They do not put these foes of mine to rout?'

To crush a flea, this fellow's fingers under,
The gods must lend the fool their club and thunder!

Jean de La Fontaine

Jean de La Fontaine was a renowned French fabulist and poet. Born on July 8, 1621, he is best known for his 'Fables,' which have been admired for their witty and insightful depiction of human nature and society. La Fontaine's fables are considered classics of French literature and have had a long-lasting impact on both the literary world and popular culture. He passed away on April 13, 1695.

Jean de La Fontaine

The Hornets And The Bees.

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

The Man And The Wooden God.

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

The Shepherd And The Sea.

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

The Fool Who Sold Wisdom.

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

English

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Man And Flea.

        Nothing, methinks, is to be seen
        On earth that does not overween.
        Doth not the hawk, from high, survey
        The fowls as destined for his prey?
        And do not Cæsars, and such things,
        Deem men were born to slave for kings?
        The crab, amidst the golden sands
        Of Tagus, or on pearl-strewn strands,
        Or in the coral-grove marine,
        Thinks hers each gem of ray serene.
        The snail, 'midst bordering pinks and roses,
        Where zephyrs fly and love reposes,
        Where Laura's cheek vies with the peaches,
        When Corydon one glance beseeches, -
        The snail regards both fruit and flower,
        And thanks God for the granted bower.

        And man, who, standing on some bluff...

John Gay

The Fly And The Ant.

^[1]

A fly and ant, upon a sunny bank,
Discuss'd the question of their rank.
'O Jupiter!' the former said,
'Can love of self so turn the head,
That one so mean and crawling,
And of so low a calling,
To boast equality shall dare
With me, the daughter of the air?
In palaces I am a guest,
And even at thy glorious feast.
Whene'er the people that adore thee
May immolate for thee a bullock,
I'm sure to taste the meat before thee.
Meanwhile this starveling, in her hillock,
Is living on some bit of straw
Which she has labour'd home to draw.
But tell me now, my little thing,
Do you camp ever on a king,
An emperor, or lady?
I do, and have full many a play-day
On fairest bosom of the fair,
And sport myself upon her hair.

Jean de La Fontaine

The Woodman And Mercury.

^[1]

To M. The Chevalier De Bouillon.^[2]

Your taste has served my work to guide;
To gain its suffrage I have tried.
You'd have me shun a care too nice,
Or beauty at too dear a price,
Or too much effort, as a vice.
My taste with yours agrees:
Such effort cannot please;
And too much pains about the polish
Is apt the substance to abolish;
Not that it would be right or wise
The graces all to ostracize.
You love them much when delicate;
Nor is it left for me to hate.
As to the scope of Aesop's plan,^[3]
I fail as little as I can.
If this my rhymed and measured speech
Availeth not to please or teach,
I own it not a fault of mine;
Some unknown reason I assign.
With little strength endued
For bat...

Jean de La Fontaine

The Lion And The Gnat.

^[1]

'Go, paltry insect, nature's meanest brat!'
Thus said the royal lion to the gnat.
The gnat declared immediate war.
'Think you,' said he, 'your royal name
To me worth caring for?
Think you I tremble at your power or fame?
The ox is bigger far than you;
Yet him I drive, and all his crew.'
This said, as one that did no fear owe,
Himself he blew the battle charge,
Himself both trumpeter and hero.
At first he play'd about at large,
Then on the lion's neck, at leisure, settled,
And there the royal beast full sorely nettled.
With foaming mouth, and flashing eye,
He roars. All creatures hide or fly, -
Such mortal terror at
The work of one poor gnat!
With constant change of his attack,
The snout now stinging, now the back,
...

Jean de La Fontaine

The Rabbits.

^[1]

An Address To The Duke De La Rochefoucauld.^[2]

While watching man in all his phases,
And seeing that, in many cases,
He acts just like the brute creation, -
I've thought the lord of all these races
Of no less failings show'd the traces
Than do his lieges in relation;
And that, in making it, Dame Nature
Hath put a spice in every creature
From off the self-same spirit-stuff -
Not from the immaterial,
But what we call ethereal,
Refined from matter rough.
An illustration please to hear.
Just on the still frontier
Of either day or night, -
Or when the lord of light
Reclines his radiant head
Upon his watery bed,
Or when he dons the gear,
To drive a new career, -
While yet with doubtful sway
The...

Jean de La Fontaine

The Fox, The Flies, And The Hedgehog.

^[1]

A fox, old, subtle, vigilant, and sly, -
By hunters wounded, fallen in the mud, -
Attracted, by the traces of his blood,
That buzzing parasite, the fly.
He blamed the gods, and wonder'd why
The Fates so cruelly should wish
To feast the fly on such a costly dish.
'What! light on me! make me its food!
Me, me, the nimblest of the wood!
How long has fox-meat been so good?
What serves my tail? Is it a useless weight?
Go, - Heaven confound thee, greedy reprobate! -
And suck thy fill from some more vulgar veins!'
A hedgehog, witnessing his pains,
(This fretful personage
Here graces first my page,)
Desired to set him free
From such cupidity.
'My neighbour fox,' said he,
My quills these rascals shall empale,
And ease thy to...

Jean de La Fontaine