Poems of the moment.

THE PEASANTS AND THE OAK.

FABLE.

To Mr. Allan Kardec.

Abuses have hidden champions more dangerous than declared adversaries, and the proof of this is the difficulty one has in uprooting them. Allan Kardec (What Is Spiritism). One day honest peasants Standing before an enormous oak, an immense crown, Measured it many times.

— It is in vain, says one of them, that such intense seed Germinates in furrows thus turned and fertilized. Nothing grows; manure and sap consumed Are by the branches, that thick foliage. To indulge such whims is sad foolishness indeed. To let this tree make the ground poor, That consumes our sweat and sterilizes the grain. Brothers, if you will believe me We shall rid our field Of the troublesome presence… and that… in one pull! To the work! they cry with pleasure. They were all very ardent;

A rope is tied high upon the oak, Forming a chain on a strong branch Whose links joined together powerfully. The foliage trembles and rustles, But that is all… They go to thrash about, to wear themselves out For the sake of the tortuous and robust branchwork, Which at last lets itself not be shaken. Someone sensible from the region, A good old man says to them in passing: My boys, Your harvest is lost, then, From the branches in profit and from those scrawny grains, To destroy them… is good… I can understand; But to fell the tree is no easy thing; To bend such a great oak Your arm is weak in strength;

Age stiffens the body and does not let it yield. Make the assault less noisy and more terrible Upon that vigorous colossus;

Centuries already pass over its gnarled bark; Employ days in mining it, that is possible. Uncover its root, sucking, feline And you will bring death to the confused branchwork. Not being able to extinguish an abuse at a single blow Seek in its foundation the timely ruin. C. Dombre.

THE HEDGEHOG, THE RABBIT, AND THE MAGPIE. FABLE.

To the members of the Spiritist Society of Bordeaux. Charity, my friends, is done in many ways: you can do charity by thoughts, words, and works… (The protecting Spirit of the Spiritist Society of Lyon — Spiritist Review of October 1861). A poor hedgehog, on being put out of its burrow, Rolled through the field amid the brambles, From some small creature's surest blows, Which abandons it in blood and almost suffocates it. It bristles, trembling, its thorny armor, Stretches itself out, casting around a hidden glance, And now without danger, it laments In a feeble voice, weeping:

Where am I going?… To flee?… To return to the old shelter Is above my will.

I can no longer even foresee what danger Worse threatens me… Must I die?…

I need a refuge and a little repose To heal my wounds;

But where to find any shelter?

Who has pity on my ills?

In a rabbit that dwelt among splinters of rock And for whom charity, Not being a vain term, sensitively blossoms And says to it — My friend, accept the half Of my modest shelter; I am well in this asylum, In it you will be safe; it is difficult, I have seen, To find your trail, with malice.

You can be tranquil here:

Attention near me you will always have, there. Before that offer so gracious, The hedgehog follows at a slow pace, When an obsequious magpie Makes a sign to the rabbit: — Wait a moment, I beg… a word… it is a brief matter… And then to the hedgehog: — It is a little secret… Forgive me, if only for the delay!

And the good rabbit, quite still, — Pricking up its ears asks her to speak low. What! That you should take into your house such folk!… Be more prudent in your dealings with those below you! Never would I commit such patent foolishness! I… But do you not fear to repent of it? Once in health and with redoubled strength, Who knows but you may be the first to suffer From its evil heart and its sharp barbs; And to what means, then, will you have recourse? The rabbit answered: — No disquiet Must turn us away from beneficent impulses; It is far better to expose oneself to ingratitude Than to fail those who suffer!

C. Dombre.