The Raven And The Fox.[1]

            Perch'd on a lofty oak,
        Sir Raven held a lunch of cheese;
        Sir Fox, who smelt it in the breeze,
            Thus to the holder spoke: -
        'Ha! how do you do, Sir Raven?
        Well, your coat, sir, is a brave one!
        So black and glossy, on my word, sir,
    With voice to match, you were a bird, sir,
    Well fit to be the Phoenix of these days.'
        Sir Raven, overset with praise,
        Must show how musical his croak.
        Down fell the luncheon from the oak;
        Which snatching up, Sir Fox thus spoke: -
            'The flatterer, my good sir,
            Aye liveth on his listener;
            Which lesson, if you please,
            Is doubtless worth the cheese.'
        A bit too late, Sir Raven swore
    The rogue should never cheat him more.

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

Death And The Unfortunate.[1]

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

The Dog That Carried His Master's Dinner.

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

Hans Carvel's Ring

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

The Shepherd And The King.

Jean de La Fontaine, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Raven And The Fox.

Mr. Raven was perched upon a limb,
And Reynard the Fox looked up at him;
For the Raven held in his great big beak
A morsel the Fox would go far to seek.

Said the Fox, in admiring tones: "My word!
Sir Raven, you are a handsome bird.
Such feathers! If you would only sing,
The birds of these woods would call you King."

The Raven, who did not see the joke,
Forgot that his voice was just a croak.
He opened his beak, in his foolish pride -
And down fell the morsel the Fox had spied.

"Ha-ha!" said the Fox. "And now you see
You should not listen to flattery.
Vanity, Sir is a horrid vice -
I'm sure the lesson is worth the price."

Jean de La Fontaine

The Sycophantic Fox And The Gullible Raven

A raven sat upon a tree,
And not a word he spoke, for
His beak contained a piece of Brie,
Or, maybe, it was Roquefort:
We'll make it any kind you please--
At all events, it was a cheese.

Beneath the tree's umbrageous limb
A hungry fox sat smiling;
He saw the raven watching him,
And spoke in words beguiling.
"J'admire," said he, "ton beau plumage."
(The which was simply persiflage.)

Two things there are, no doubt you know,
To which a fox is used:
A rooster that is bound to crow,
A crow that's bound to roost,
And whichsoever he espies
He tells the most unblushing lies.

"Sweet fowl," he said, "I understand
You're more than merely natty,
I hear you sing to beat the band
And Adelina Patti.
Pray render wi...

Guy Wetmore Carryl

The Raven Wishing To Imitate The Eagle.

^[1]

The bird of Jove bore off a mutton,
A raven being witness.
That weaker bird, but equal glutton,
Not doubting of his fitness
To do the same with ease,
And bent his taste to please,
Took round the flock his sweep,
And mark'd among the sheep,
The one of fairest flesh and size,
A real sheep of sacrifice -
A dainty titbit bestial,
Reserved for mouth celestial.
Our gormand, gloating round,
Cried, 'Sheep, I wonder much
Who could have made you such.
You're far the fattest I have found;
I'll take you for my eating.'
And on the creature bleating
He settled down. Now, sooth to say,
This sheep would weigh
More than a cheese;
And had a fleece
Much like that matting famous
Which graced the chin of Polyphemus;^...

Jean de La Fontaine

The Raven Who Would Rival The Eagle.

An Eagle swooped from out the sky,
And carried off a sheep.
A Raven seeing him, said: "I
Could do that too if I should try.
His meal comes mighty cheap."

Of all that well-fed flock was one
As fat as fat could be.
The Raven rose, and lit upon
Her back. She seemed to weigh a ton -
So very fat was she.

And, oh! Her wool was wondrous thick:
It would have made a mat.
The Raven's claws are caught, and stick!
He's played himself a pretty trick -
To fly with one so fat.

"Ba, ba!" "Caw, caw!" cry bird and beast.
The shepherd comes at last:
Sir Raven who would find a feast
Is from the woolly one released,
And in a cage kept fast.

Jean de La Fontaine

The Wolf And The Fox.

Why Aesop gave the palm of cunning,
O'er flying animals and running,
To Renard Fox, I cannot tell,
Though I have search'd the subject well.
Hath not Sir Wolf an equal skill
In tricks and artifices shown,
When he would do some life an ill,
Or from his foes defend his own?
I think he hath; and, void of disrespect,
I might, perhaps, my master contradict:
Yet here's a case, in which the burrow-lodger
Was palpably, I own, the brightest dodger.
One night he spied within a well,
Wherein the fullest moonlight fell,
What seem'd to him an ample cheese.
Two balanced buckets took their turns
When drawers thence would fill their urns.
Our fox went down in one of these,
By hunger greatly press'd to sup,
And drew the other empty up.
Convinced at once of h...

Jean de La Fontaine

The Wolf and the Fox.

"Dear wolf," complain'd a hungry fox,
"A lean chick's meat, or veteran cock's,
Is all I get by toil or trick:
Of such a living I am sick.
With far less risk, you've better cheer;
A house you need not venture near,
But I must do it, spite of fear.
Pray, make me master of your trade.
And let me by that means be made
The first of all my race that took
Fat mutton to his larder's hook:
Your kindness shall not be repented."
The wolf quite readily consented.
"I have a brother, lately dead:
Go fit his skin to yours," he said.
'Twas done; and then the wolf proceeded:
"Now mark you well what must be done,
The dogs that guard the flock to shun."
The fox the lessons strictly heeded.
At first he boggled in his dress;
But awkwardness grew less and less,<...

Jean de La Fontaine