The Mountain In Labour.

A mountain was in travail pang; The country with her clamour rang. Out ran the people all, to see, Supposing that the birth would be A city, or at least a house. It was a mouse! In thinking of this fable, Of story feign'd and false, But meaning veritable, My mind the image calls Of one who writes, "The war I sing Which Titans waged against the Thunder-king." As on the sounding verses ring, What will be brought to birth? Why, dearth.