THE HARE AND THE BRAMBLE.

THE HARE AND THE BRAMBLE.

A hare, closely pursued, thought it prudent and meet

To a bramble for refuge awhile to retreat;

He enter'd the covert, but entering, found

That briers and thorns did on all sides abound;

And that, though he was safe, yet he never could stir,

But his sides they would wound, or would tear off his fur:

He shrugg'd up his shoulders, but would not complain:

"To repine at small evils," quoth puss, "is in vain:

That no bliss can be perfect, I very well knew—

But from the same source good and evil doth flow—

And full sorely my skin though these briers may rend,

Yet they keep off the dogs, and my life will defend:

For the sake of the good, then, let evil be borne—

For each sweet has its bitter, each bramble its thorn."