A fox was trotting on one day,
And just above his head.
He saw a Vine with lovely grapes,
Rich, ripe, and purple-red;
Eager he tried to snatch the fruit,
But, ah! It was too high!
Poor Reynard had to give it up,
And heaving a deep sigh,
He curled his nose and said,
"Dear me!
I would not waste an hour
Upon such mean and common fruit
I'm sure those grapes are sour!"
'Tis thus we often wish thro' life,
When seeking wealth and pow'r;
And when we fail, say, like the fox,
"We resure the grapes are sour !"