The Fighting Cocks

A Long Story.

There were two Cocks in a barn, They fought a good deal, Stood up their feathers and shone like a parn, And crowed at one another: Their bright eyes twinkled with a laugh, They scratched up the straw like floor, And kicked it about at each other’s wrath, They kicked up—here, near and o’er.

The Goose upon the wall with a goosing, The Hen that clucked away their pride, Oh! they trumpeted in the corner, And called each other lower and wide; There was a Baw, and the world did quiver; Cowards they could not be; Such cocks that did not peck, nor shiver, Became a big cackling glee.

So they quarreled—but oh! a surprise, They met a big horse then, That took them down—to cover their eyes And roar—broke false with a pen.

But this fighting cock on his high Louder than wind blew by But more—gate go ask and receive Come banter, hang well on the wry. But the next in the game arose To banish the fighting noise; Ah! sheer of luck in every stroke But nothing worth strutting in cockerel joys.

Though they stood up so to prick, Ambition led to flight! And one will dream what they may kick, The other will claim the right.

For as dark notions are things most grand, Things to kindle jealous strife, There are these cocks of the barnyard band, And take a pride in life; Of fate and hoot to amuse, Has marked the path of a Hat.

Boy with the bravado mood, Surely had much of worth, But swinging high where the winds might brood, Is where they learnt their birth;

• Robert Southey