Though less common these days narrative was a large part of
poetry in the past. From Homer to the 19th century epic storytelling
in verse was common. Ballads and other poems told shorter stories.
Stories benefited from the rhythmic, sound, and imagery strength that
verse can create.
The fable that this poem is based on is probably older than
Aesop.
That the fable dates from before Aesop's time is
suggested by a single line surviving from a poem by Archilochos in
which the question is asked 'what has caused the scruff of his neck
to become so worn'. It is conjectured that this refers
to some early version of the fable, which is well attested in later
Greek sources, including the collection of Babrius, as well as in the
Latin collection of Phaedrus. The fable was also well known in the
Middle Ages, was included in William Caxton's collection, and was
made the subject of a Neo-Latin poem by Hieronymus Osius.
from Wikipedia.
THE DOG AND THE WOLF
Through all the
forest there was not a breeze.
The bright rays of
the moon's light whitened leaves.
A wolf was on the
prowl in its clear light,
Out hunting: he was
ravenous that night.
The poor beast was
so hungry and so thin,
His ribs were almost
sticking through his skin.
Now as he slunk
along he chanced to meet
A tame dog, looking
plump, well-fed and sleek.
"Good evening
to you, good cousin hound,"
The wolf growled
softly, with a jealous sound,
"How goes the
world with you?"
"Fine, fine,"
The dog said, "How
are you, good friend of mine?
You look a little
lean and starved."
"Alas, good
cousin dog, the hunting's hard,
And I can scarcely
scrape enough together."
"Dear me, my
cousin wolf, from what I gather,
You live your life
in great uncertainty,
Why don't you get a
steady job like me?"
The wolf paused,
scratched his head a bit, and thought,
"Yes, yes, dear
dog. I guess you're right. I ought
To get a job. But
where shall I find one?"
"There's
nothing easier," barked the dog, "just come.
My master's home,
he'd find you work all right,
And all you have to
do to earn your bite
Is growl, to scare
off any thieves at night."
"Yes, living in
the woods or on the plain,
And often whipped by
wind or soaked by rain,
I never know where
I'll get my next meal,"
The wolf replied,
"Yes, yes, you have a deal.
For what have I to
lose now anyway?
I'd get warm shelter
there and food each day."
"Well, follow
me, my friend," replied the pet.
"I do not think
I'll follow you just yet.
For first I want to
know," the wolf growled back,
"What's that
large mark upon your furry neck?"
"That's
nothing," said the dog with some surprise,
"My collar's
tight, I need a bigger size."
The wolf asked
softly, "Collar? Could you explain?"
"Yes,"
answered the dog, "the collar that holds my chain."
"Your chain?
You mean that you're tied up at home?
You mean to say
you're not left free to roam
Wherever you wish;
free like the roving wind?"
With gentle growls
the wolf now questioned him.
"Er, not
exactly free all of the time,"
The dog explained
this with a trace of shame,
"In fact, my
friend, my master feels that I'm
A little fierce,
quick-tempered- so in the day,
If it should be that
he must go away,
He chains me up to
make sure that I stay.
But when the stars
appear he leaves me free
To go wherever I
wish to go, you see.
Thus during hours of
day I rest a bit
And catch up on my
sleep, so I am fit
To watch at night
and stay quite wide awake.
I am much loved. My
master lets me take
The odd scrap from the table- life's free from worry.
Good wolf, why are you going? What's your hurry?"
The odd scrap from the table- life's free from worry.
Good wolf, why are you going? What's your hurry?"
"Good night to
you, poor dog," the wolf replied,
"You're welcome
to you luxury in chains!
For I must say, to
be but frank and plain,
That I prefer my
freedom to your fat!"
And finishing their
little chat with that,
The wolf turned tail
and quickly trotted back,
Unchained, untamed,
into the friendly darkness,