The Turkey, Peacock, And Goose.

As specks appear on fields of snow,             So blemishes on beauty show.             A peacock fed in a farm-yard             Where all the poultry eyed him hard -             They looked on him with evil eye,             And mocked his sumptuous pageantry:             Proud of the glories he inherited,             He sought the praises they well merited.             Then, to surprise their dazzled sight,             He spread his glories to the light.             His glories spread, no sooner seen             Than rose their malice and their spleen.             "Behold his insolence and pride -             His haughtiness!" the turkey cried.             "He trusts in feathers; but within             They serve to hide his negro skin."             "What hideous legs!" exclaimed the goose;             "The tail to hide them were of use.             And hearken to his voice: it howls             Enough to frighten midnight owls."             "Yes, they are blemishes, I own,"             Replied the peacock; "harsh the tone             Is of my voice - no symmetry             In my poor legs; yet had your eye             Been pleased to mark my radiant train,             You might have spared detraction's vein.             For if these shanks which you traduce             Belonged to turkey or to goose,             Or had the voice still harsher been,             They had not been remarked or seen;             But Envy, unto beauties blind,             Seeks blemishes to soothe her mind."             So have we, in the midnight scene,             Seen purity with face serene             Awake the clamour of detraction             From jaundiced Envy's yellow faction.