Page:An argosy of fables.djvu/441

 Rh 'VE sometime read, I know not where,—

&ensp;For mem'ry's treacherous, all declare!—

With many a joke in doggerel rhyme,

The Ivy mocked the lowly Thyme,

Because he seldom reared his head,

But grew ignobly near a shed:

"Friend," said the Vine, "how comes it so?

Your thoughts are so debased and low?

For though your humble form can boast

The odours of Arabia's coast,

Of all the plants that grow around.

You are the nearest to the ground."—

"Friend," said the Thyme, "to gain the skies

I never wish like you to rise.

I lead an independent life.

Remote from care, unknown to strife.

Nor from another's aid profess

To owe the comforts I possess—

But, Oh! how changed your lot to mine

Should what you rest on e'er decline;

If yonder rude majestic Oak

Should fall beneath the woodman's stroke,

Or that vast tower to which you trust

Be crumbled into native dust.