The Youth's Coronal Part 14

No more I'll kill a nestling, To pain a mother-bird!"

=The Bat's Flight By Daylight An Allegory=.

A Bat one morn from his covert flew, To show the world what a Bat could do, By soaring off on a lofty flight, In the open day, by the sun's clear light!

He quite forgot that he had for wings But a pair of monstrous, plumeless things; That, more than half like a fish's fin, With a warp of bone, and a woof of skin, Were only fit in the dark to fly, In view of a bat's or an owlet's eye.

He sallied forth from his hidden hole, And pa.s.sed the door of his neighbor, Mole, Who shrugged, and said, "Of the two so blind The wisest, surely, stays behind!"

But he could not cope with the glare of day: He lost his sight, and he missed his way;-- He wheeled on his flapping wings, till, "b.u.mp!"

His head went, hard on the farm-yard pump.

Then, stunned and posed, as he met the ground, A stir and a shout in the yard went round; For its tenants thought they had one come there, That seemed not of water, earth, or air.

The Hen, "Cut, cut, cut-dah-cut!" cried, For all to cut at the thing she spied; While the taunting Duck said, "Quack, quack, quack!"

As her muddy mouth to the pool went back, For something denser than sound, to show Her sage disgust, at the quack to throw.

The old Turk strutted, and gobbled aloud, Till he gathered around him a babbling crowd; When each proud neck in the whole doomed group Was poked with a condescending stoop, And a pointed beak, at the prostrate Bat, Which they eyed askance, as to ask, "What's _that_?"

But none could tell; and the poults moved off, In their _select circle_ to leer and scoff.

The Goslings skulked; but their wise mamma, She hissed, and screamed, till the Lambs cried, "Ba-a!"

When up from his straw sprang the gaping Calf, With a gawky leap and a clammy laugh.

He stared--retreated--and off he went, The wondrous news in his voice to vent,-- That he had discovered a _monster_ there-- A _bird four-footed, and clothed with hair_!

And had dashed his heel at the sight so odd, It looked, he thought, like a _heathen G.o.d_!

The scuddling Chicks cried, "Peep, peep, peep!

For Boss looks high, but not very deep!

It is not a fowl! 'tis the worst of things,-- low, mean beast, with the use of wings, So noiseless round on the air to skim, You know not when you are safe from him."

There stood by, some of the bristly tribe, Who felt so touched by the peeper's gibe, Their backs were up; for they thought, at least, It aimed at them the _low, mean beast:_ And they challenged Chick to her tiny face, In their sharp, high notes, and their awful base.

Then old Chanticleer to his mount withdrew, And gave from his rostrum a loud halloo.

He blew his clarion strong and shrill, Till he turned all eyes to his height, the hill; When he noised it round with his loudest crow, That 't was none of the _plumed_ ones brought so low.

And, "Bow-wow-wow!" went the sentry Cur; But he soon strolled off in a grave demur, When he saw on the wonder, _hair_, like his, _Two ears_, and a kind of _doubtful phiz;_ And he deemed it prudent to pause, and hark In silence, for fear that the sight might _bark_!

At last came Puss, with a cautious pat To feel the pulse of the quivering Bat, That had not, under her tender paw, A limb to move, nor a breath to draw!

Then she called her kit for a mother's gift, And stilled its mew with the racy lift.

When Mole of the awful death was told, "Alas!" cried she, "he had grown too bold-- Too vain and proud! Had he only kept, Like the _prudent Mole_, in his nest, and slept.

Or worked underground, where none could see, He might have still been alive, like me!"

While thus, so early the poor Bat died, A cry, that it was but the fall of pride, And signs of mirth, or of scorn, were all He had from those who beheld his fall.

They each could triumph, and each condemn; But no kind pity was shown by them.

And now, should we, as a mirror, place This story out for the world to face, How many, think you, would there perceive Likeness to children of Adam and Eve?

=Idle Jack.=

See mischievous and idle Jack!

How fast he flies, nor dares look back!

He seized Horatio's pretty cart, And broke and threw it part from part; The body here, and there the wheels; And now, by taking to his heels, He makes the Scripture proverb true,-- _The wicked flee when none pursue._.

Oh! Jack's a worthless, wicked boy, Who seems but evil to enjoy.

He often racks his naughty brain Inventing ways of giving pain.

He loves to torture b.u.t.terflies-- To dust the kitten's tender eyes-- To break the cricket's slender limb; And pain to them is sport to him.

He sometimes to your garden comes, To crush the flowers and steal the plums-- The melons tries with thievish gripe, To find the one that's nearest ripe-- His pocket fills with grapes or pears, No matter how their owner fares; When, by its lawless, robber track, You trace the foot of idle Jack.

Whenever Jack is sent to school, He, playing truant, plays the fool: Or else he goes, with sloven looks And hands unclean, to spoil the books-- To spill the ink, or make a noise, Disturbing good and studious boys; Till all who find what Jack's about Within the school, must wish him out.

If ever Jack at church appears, He knows not, cares not, what he hears.

While others to the word attend, He has a pencil-point to mend-- An apple, or his nails to pare, Or cracks a nut in time of prayer, Till many wish that Jack would come, A better boy, or stay at home.

In short, he shows, beyond a doubt, That, if he does not turn about, And mend his morals and his ways, He yet must come to evil days; And of a life of wasted time-- Of idleness, and vice, and crime, To meet, perhaps, a felon's end, With neither man, nor G.o.d his friend.

=David and Goliath=.

Young David was a ruddy lad With silken, sunny locks, The youngest son that Jesse had: He kept his father's flocks.

Goliath was a Philistine, A giant, huge and high; He lifted, like a towering pine, His head towards the sky.

He was the foe of Israel's race.

A mighty warrior, too; And on he strode from place to place, And many a man he slew.

So Saul, the king of Israel then, Proclaimed it to and fro, That most he'd favor of his men The one, who'd kill the foe.

Yet all, who saw this foe draw near, Would feel their courage fail; For not an arrow, sword, or spear, Could pierce the giant's mail.

But Jesse's son conceived a way, That would deliverance bring; Whereby he might Goliath slay, And thus relieve the king.

Then quick he laid his shepherd's crook Upon a gra.s.sy bank; And off he waded in the brook From which the lambkins drank.

He culled and fitted to his sling Five pebbles, smooth and round; And one of these he meant should bring The giant to the ground.

"I've killed a lion and a bear,"

Said he, "and now I'll slay The Philistine, and by the hair I'll bring his head away!"

Then onward to the battle-field The youthful hero sped; He knew Goliath by his s.h.i.+eld, And by his towering head.

But when, with only sling and staff, The giant saw him come, In triumph he began to laugh; Yet David struck him dumb.

He fell! 'twas David's puny hand That caused his overthrow!

Though long the terror of the land, A pebble laid him low.