The Peacock's Complaint

The Peacock considered it wrong
That he had not the nightingale's song;
So to Juno he went,
She replied, "Be content
With thy having, & hold thy fool's tongue!"

Do Not Quarrel With Nature

Walter Crane

Walter Crane was an English artist and book illustrator, considered to be one of the most prolific and influential children's book creators of his generation. Born on August 15, 1845, and passing away on March 14, 1915, he was part of the Arts and Crafts movement and is known for his innovative contributions to children's literature. His work often combined art and poetry, aiming to educate and delight young readers.

Walter Crane

The Fly & The Humble Bee

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

Baa! Baa! Black Sheep

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

The Frog & The Bull

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

The Man & The Snake

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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The Peacock Complaining To Juno.

^[1]

The peacock^[2] to the queen of heaven
Complain'd in some such words: -
'Great goddess, you have given
To me, the laughing-stock of birds,
A voice which fills, by taste quite just,
All nature with disgust;
Whereas that little paltry thing,
The nightingale, pours from her throat
So sweet and ravishing a note,
She bears alone the honours of the spring.'

In anger Juno heard,
And cried, 'Shame on you, jealous bird!
Grudge you the nightingale her voice,
Who in the rainbow neck rejoice,
Than costliest silks more richly tinted,
In charms of grace and form unstinted, -
Who strut in kingly pride,
Your glorious tail spread wide
With brilliants which in sheen do
Outshine the jeweller's bow window?
Is there a b...

Jean de La Fontaine

Answer To Dr. Delany's Fable Of The Pheasant And Lark.

1730


In ancient times, the wise were able
In proper terms to write a fable:
Their tales would always justly suit
The characters of every brute.
The ass was dull, the lion brave,
The stag was swift, the fox a knave;
The daw a thief, the ape a droll,
The hound would scent, the wolf would prowl:
A pigeon would, if shown by Æsop,
Fly from the hawk, or pick his pease up.
Far otherwise a great divine
Has learnt his fables to refine;
He jumbles men and birds together,
As if they all were of a feather:
You see him first the Peacock bring,
Against all rules, to be a king;
That in his tail he wore his eyes,
By which he grew both rich and wise.
Now, pray, observe the doctor's choice,
A Peacock chose for flight and voice;
Did ever mort...

Jonathan Swift

The Scold And Parrot.

        A husband said unto his wife:
        "Who deals in slander deals in strife;
        Are we the heralds of disgrace,
        To thunder, love, at all our race -
        And, indiscriminate in rage,
        To spare nor friend nor sex nor age?
        Your tongue, love, is a rolling flood
        That thundering onwards stirs up mud,
        And, like to fame and human woes,
        Progressing, strengthens as it flows."

        "My husband," so the tongue replies,
        "So philosophic and so wise,
        Am I to be - so wisdom ridden -
        A parrot's privilege forbidden?
        You praise his talk - smile at his squalling
        Yet in your wife you deem it brawling:
        Dear husband, must it still belong
        To man ...

John Gay

The Contrast - The Parrot And The Wren

I

Within her gilded cage confined,
I saw a dazzling Belle,
A Parrot of that famous kind
Whose name is Non-Pareil.

Like beads of glossy jet her eyes;
And, smoothed by Nature's skill,
With pearl or gleaming agate vies
Her finely-curved bill.

Her plumy mantle's living hues
In mass opposed to mass,
Outshine the splendour that imbues
The robes of pictured glass.

And, sooth to say, an apter Mate
Did never tempt the choice
Of feathered Thing most delicate
In figure and in voice.

But, exiled from Australian bowers,
And singleness her lot,
She trills her song with tutored powers,
Or mocks each casual note.

No more of pity for regrets
With which she may have striven!
Now but in wantonness she frets,<...

William Wordsworth

The Judgment Of The Poets.

Two nymphs, both nearly of an age,
Of numerous charms possessd,
A warm dispute once chanced to wage,
Whose temper was the best.


The worth of each had been complete,
Had both alike been mild:
But one, although her smile was sweet,
Frownd oftener than she smiled.


And in her humour, when she frownd,
Would raise her voice, and roar,
And shake with fury to the ground
The garland that she wore.


The other was of gentler cast,
From all such frenzy clear,
Her frowns were seldom known to last,
And never proved severe.


To poets of renown in song
The nymphs referrd the cause,
Who, strange to tell, all judgd it wrong,
And gave misplaced applause.


They gentle calld, and kind and soft,

William Cowper

The Lover And Birds

Within a budding grove,
In April's ear sang every bird his best,
But not a song to pleasure my unrest,
Or touch the tears unwept of bitter love;
Some spake, methought, with pity, some as if in jest.
To every word
Of every bird
I listen'd, and replied as it behove.

Scream'd Chaffinch, 'Sweet, sweet, sweet!
Pretty lovey, come and meet me here!'
'Chaffinch,' quoth I, 'be dumb awhile, in fear
Thy darling prove no better than a cheat,
And never come, or fly when wintry days appear.'
Yet from a twig,
With voice so big,
The little fowl his utterance did repeat.

Then I, 'The man forlorn
Hears Earth send up a foolish noise aloft.'
'And what'll he do? What'll he do?' scoff'd
The Blackbird, standing, in an ancient thorn,
Then spread his so...

William Allingham