Mark next my second rule, and sadly know,
What's lost, 'tis wise with patience to forego.'
"The carle though rude of wit, now chaf'd amain;
He felt the mockery of the songster's strain.
'Peace,' quoth the bird; 'my third is far the best;
Store thou the precious treasure in thy breast:
What good thou hast, ne'er lightly from thee cast:'
—He spoke, and twittering fled away full fast.
Straight, sunk in earth, the gushing fountain dries,
Down fall the fruits, the withered pine-tree dies,
Fades all the beauteous plat, so cool, so green,
Into thin air, and never more is seen.
"Such was the meed of avarice: bitter cost!
The carle who all would gather, all has lost."
The same story is to be found in Lydgate, entitled "The Chorle and the Bird."
Note 97.Page 342.
"This is another of Barlaam's Apologues in Damascenus's romance of Barlaam and Josaphat: and which has been adopted into the Lives of the Saints, by Surius and others. A moralization is subjoined, exactly agreeing with that in the Gesta."—Warton.
