There once was a crow who sat perched in a tree.
A morsel of cheese in her beak had she.
Along came a fox as sly and can be,
That he cunningly plots how to get the cheese.
“My, how I admire your coal-black sheen!
The glint of your feathers in the sunlight’s gleam,
The curve of your beak, both sharp and long;
I’d hail you Queen of Birds if I could hear your song!”
The crow heard the fox say these words so fair,
She wished to be praised as queen of the air,
So she opened her beak and gave a caw quite loud–
But the morsel of cheese fell down to the ground!
The fox snatched it up, saying, “Thanks alot!
A voice you’ve got—but wits you’ve not!”