a certain wood-chopper lost or broke

from his axe's eye a bit of oak.

the forest must needs be somewhat spared

while such a loss was being repair'd.

came the man at last, and humbly pray'd

that the woods would kindly lend to him—

a moderate loan—a single limb,

whereof might another helve be made,

and his axe should elsewhere drive its trade.

oh, the oaks and firs that then might stand,

a pride and a joy throughout the land,

for their ancientness and glorious charms!

the innocent forest lent him arms;

but bitter indeed was her regret;

for the wretch, his axe new-helved and whet,

did nought but his benefactress spoil

of the finest trees that graced her soil;

and ceaselessly was she made to groan,

doing penance for that fatal loan.

behold the world-stage and its actors,

where benefits hurt benefactors!

a weary theme, and full of pain;

for where's the shade so cool and sweet,

protecting strangers from the heat,

but might of such a wrong complain?

alas! i vex myself in vain;

ingratitude, do what i will,

is sure to be the fashion still.