C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
The Connoisseur
By Jean Pierre Claris de Florian (1755–1794)
A
Free from his cage by hazard set,
Established him as connoisseur
Within a grove, when he, like those
Our critics false, began to slur
At everything with stuck-up nose:
The nightingale should trim her song—
Her cadences seemed rather poor:
The linnet he could not endure;
The thrush, perhaps, would get along
Could he but teach her for a while,—
That is, if she would aim at style.
Thus, none of all could please him—none;
And when their morning songs awoke,
The paroquet whistled, for a joke,
And kept it up till day was done.
Outraged at this unruly fate,
A deputation came in state,
Requesting him with curtsies low:—
“Good sir, who always whistle so,
Inform us, pray, where we offend:
We wish to have a song from you:
Come, show us how we may amend.”
The paroquet, abashed, replied,
Scratching his head on either side,—
“Whistling, my friends, is all I do.”