The Richmond Palladium

I believe of the goose several species are known,
Nor always distinguished by feathers alone,
For geese may wear broad-cloth, fine boots and a hat,
Sport a cane and cigar, a moustache, and all that;
Howbeit, this species dishonors the bird,
Although of the fowl, he may claim to be lord:
And while other species of goose we may find,
The species with plumage, I bring to your mind.
Though both may be famed for a high disposition,
And bearing the head in a lofty position ;
T'would seem they suppose their crests higher by far,
Than truthfully speaking, they actually are,
For the goose upon passing an entrance will nod,
Though the opening above may extend a full rod.
Of all the domestic fowls good for man's use,
For their down or for nesting, the best is the goose!
And although the roast turkey, a dish of renown,
And at Christmas much talked of in country and town,
May be savory indeed yet were we to compare
The goose with the turkey, we could but declare
That unto the former be preference is due,
And t'would still be the choice of the epicure true.
Now who that at evening has rested his head,
On the light downy pillow and soft feather bed,
But has sunk to repose, with thanks in his mind,
And pitied the woes of poor Anser's kind.
For Oh ! it is doleful when plucking the geese,
And when we are rending their snowy white fleece,
To list' to the pleadings and clamor they raise,
But the pitiless picker his hand never stays.
When shorn of their plumage, deject and drooping,
How mournful the scene is, as o'er the lawn trooping,
They strive to conceal from the sight their disgrace
They seek in the woodland a safe hiding place.
But how graceful the geese, as in squadrons they sail
O'er the clear glassy Lake in their plumage so pale'
As steering and veering, their plumage they lave,
And dive in their frolics beneath the bright Wave.
'Mony the ancients their flocks were allowed to increase,
For Rome was once saved by the gabbling of geese.
By-the-way, of the goose many stories are told ;
And the one I may mention, although it be old,
Has a moral that's good, and will often apply,
And a hint that's of value should never go by.
Now there once dwelt a man, though I cannot tell where,
And a goose he possessed with this quality rare,-
For instead of producing to nature so true,
Such eggs as 'tis known that all other geese do,
To believe in the truth of the story that's told,
You must think that the eggs of this goose were of gold.
The possessor it seems, by such valuable lays,
Was enabled quite soon 'bove his neighbors to raise,
But as poor human nature is seldom, if ever,
Satisfied with enough, so he now must endeavor
To possess all the gold of the wonderful goose,
Although he for the eggs had at present no use.
'Twas avarice that caused him to act as he did,
And to seek for the eggs where he thought they were hid,
And so he laid open the goose with a knife,
Which it naturally followed deprived her of life.
Now who can imagine the owner's surprise,
When never an egg there appeared to his eyes,
But Alas! for the source which had brought him his gain,
With covetous hand he had ruthlessly slain,
And now I should think it would plainly appear,
That an excellent moral to this would adhere.
Those people whose minds upon riches are bent,
And who with fair profits are never content,
But graspingly seek to lay hold on the whole,
Oft learn to their sorrow, they're missing the goal,
Oft find when deserted by fortune and health,
They've destroyed by grasping the source of their wealth.