The Fox and the Grapes

A Fox, one lovely Autumn day,
With thoughts of dinner in his mind;
Went prowling forth, to look for prey,
And much to grapes, he felt inclined -
And soon, upon a trellis wide,
A rich, and fruitful vine, espied.
It grew upon a lofty wall,
O'er which the purple clusters hung;
And after many a grievous fall,
As upward to the fruit he sprung;
He paused awhile, with lolling tongue;
While high above, the bunches swung.
When suddenly, among the leaves,
Appears a mastiff, fierce and grim;
Who soon espies the thieving Fox,
And points a blunderbuss at him.
(The Farmer-dog, who owned the vine,
And meant to press the grapes for wine.)
"Get out," he cried, "you thieving rogue,
Or you shall have a taste of lead!"
Then Reynard sprang behind a tree,
And carefully concealed his head;
And as the mastiff, left the wall,
In sneering tones, aloud did call;
"Your wretched grapes, are green and sour,
And only fit for stupid hogs;
Henceforth, I'll carefully avoid,
All selfish, greedy, farmer-dogs."
So saying, Reynard left the place,
With ears erect, but hungry face. [more info]

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