A fox once took it in his pate, To go beyond a garden gate, To see if there grew on the trees, Some food his hunger to appease. So in he went and there he spied Some grapes. To reach them hard he tried. Now they were large and luscious too, Quite purple, and beautiful to view. So up he jumps with many a bound, Until exhausted to the ground, He falls. The grapes hang o'er his head, In clusters large, "Well! well!" he said, "You are but green, and hard as stone, And all my time away is thrown. I'll leave you to your solitude, You are not fit to make me food."