The Poetry Corner

The Two Mules.

By Jean de La Fontaine

Two mules were bearing on their backs, One, oats; the other, silver of the tax.[1] The latter glorying in his load, March'd proudly forward on the road; And, from the jingle of his bell, 'Twas plain he liked his burden well. But in a wild-wood glen A band of robber men Rush'd forth upon the twain. Well with the silver pleased, They by the bridle seized The treasure-mule so vain. Poor mule! in struggling to repel His ruthless foes, he fell Stabb'd through; and with a bitter sighing, He cried, 'Is this the lot they promised me? My humble friend from danger free, While, weltering in my gore, I'm dying?' 'My friend,' his fellow-mule replied, 'It is not well to have one's work too high. If thou hadst been a miller's drudge, as I, Thou wouldst not thus have died.'