The Swan and the Cook

La Fontaine January 15, 2015
1 min read
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    The pleasures of a poultry yard
    Were by a swan and gosling shared.
    The swan was kept there for his looks,
    The thrifty gosling for the cooks;
    The first the garden’s pride, the latter
    A greater favourite on the platter.
    They swam the ditches, side by side,
    And oft in sports aquatic vied,
    Plunging, splashing far and wide,
    With rivalry ne’er satisfied.
    One day the cook, named Thirsty John,
    Sent for the gosling, took the swan
    In haste his throat to cut,
    And put him in the pot.
    The bird’s complaint resounded
    In glorious melody;
    Whereat the cook, astounded
    His sad mistake to see,
    Cried, “What! make soup of a musician!
    Please God, I’ll never set such dish on.
    No, no; I’ll never cut a throat
    That sings so sweet a note.”
    ‘Tis thus, whatever peril may alarm us,
    Sweet words will never harm us.


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