A raven sat upon a tree,
And not a word he spoke,
For his beak contained a piece of Brie, 
Or maybe, it was Roquefort.
We’ll make it any kind you please,
At all events it was a cheese.

Beneath the tree’s umbrageous limb,
A hungry fox sat smiling;
He saw the raven watching him,
And spoke in words beguiling: 
“J’admire,” said he, “ton beau plumage...” 
(The which was simply persiflage.)

“Sweet fowl” he said,
“I understand you’re more than merely natty, 
I hear you sing to beat the band
And Adelina Patti.

Pray render with your liquid tongue
A bit from ‘Götterdämmerung’.”
This subtle speech was aimed to please the crow, 
And it succeeded;
He thought no bird in all the trees
Could sing as well as he did.
In flattery completely doused
He gave the “Jewel Song” from Faust.
But gravitation’s law, of course,
As Isaac Newton showed it,
Exerted on the cheese its force,
And elsewhere soon bestowed it.

In fact, there is no need to tell what happened 
When to earth it fell.
I blush to add that when the bird
Took in the situation
He said one brief emphatic word, 
Unfit for publication.
The fox not famed for his guts 
For once was bold and answered: 
“Nuts!”