The Woods And The Woodman.

A certain wood-chopper lost or broke      From his axe's eye a bit of oak.      The forest must needs be somewhat spared      While such a loss was being repair'd.      Came the man at last, and humbly pray'd      That the woods would kindly lend to him -      A moderate loan - a single limb,      Whereof might another helve be made,      And his axe should elsewhere drive its trade.      O, the oaks and firs that then might stand,      A pride and a joy throughout the land,      For their ancientness and glorious charms!      The innocent Forest lent him arms;      But bitter indeed was her regret;      For the wretch, his axe new-helved and whet,      Did nought but his benefactress spoil      Of the finest trees that graced her soil;      And ceaselessly was she made to groan,      Doing penance for that fatal loan.      Behold the world-stage and its actors,      Where benefits hurt benefactors! -      A weary theme, and full of pain;      For where's the shade so cool and sweet,      Protecting strangers from the heat,      But might of such a wrong complain?      Alas! I vex myself in vain;      Ingratitude, do what I will,      Is sure to be the fashion still.