A Goose and a Crow

Two geese, scarcely knowing The east from the west, Got on to the water And rode off abreast,— Geese, you know, are not famed For their wisdom, at best.

Well, these were perhaps Neither greater nor less Than their fellows,—each had on A very white dress, And both had short tails, And a neck like an S.

The morning was genial, The water was still, And each with her heart On the end of her bill Began telling secrets, As geese sometimes will.

“All ganders are vulgar,” One said, “all so low That one can’t respect them; My dear, do you know I am really going To marry a crow!”

“A crow!” cried the other one, Slanting her eye: “What! one of those black things That swim in the sky? How strange it would be To go swimming so high!

“But are you sure, darling, (Though ’tisn’t for me To question your wisdom,) That you shall agree? I’ve heard say that crows Have their nests in a tree!”

“And what if they do, dear? Should that make you doubt My wisdom?” “No, darling, My fears were about The poor little goslings,— Might they not fall out?”

“Fall out of their own nest Ah, where could you go To find such a foolish fear? Do you not know That the carefullest bird In the world is the crow?

“And when he shall have young To quicken his care, Do you think he will leave his nest Out of repair? Or, pray, do you think that A crow is a bear?

“Why, only this morning, The one I propose To marry (be sure, He’s the kindest of crows) Assured me that I should do Just as I chose!

“And so if I don’t like My nest in a tree, Inasmuch as he means To defer thus to me, I will come down and build On the ground.” “If that he

“Continue his deference When you are matched,” Said the wiser goose, “and if when Discords are hatched, He shall have no sharp claws Nor your eyes to be scratched!”

“I see,” said the first goose, Receiving amiss The warning, “that you, madam, Envy my bliss,— Good morning.” The last word Was almost a hiss.

They married, this stranger pair, For better or worse, And, being opposed In their natures, of course, They quarrelled,—she left him, Brought suit for divorce,—

And charged him with saying A goose was a goose, Also with most cruel Neglect and abuse, And with being black,—all true, But no sort of use!

And so they are living,— He high in his tree, Misanthropic as ever A crow was, and she Decrying the courts That won’t grant a decree.

He says to his friends He was not understood,— Says he wouldn’t get married Again if he could; And she says he lies, For he knows that he would.