A crow, who had been born with wings of black,
Desired feathers of a brighter hue,
And so he sought a peacock's shining track,
And stole the gleaming plumes, both old and new.
Desired feathers of a brighter hue,
And so he sought a peacock's shining track,
And stole the gleaming plumes, both old and new.
He strutted forth, a sight for all to see,
But soon the other crows, with mocking cry,
Did pluck his borrowed finery,
And so he learned that truth, and stood thereby.
But soon the other crows, with mocking cry,
Did pluck his borrowed finery,
And so he learned that truth, and stood thereby.