In vifits too, his parts and wit,
When jefts grew dull, were fure to hit.
Proud with applaufe, he thought his mind
In every courtly art refin'd;
Like Orpheus, burnt with public zeal,
To civilize the Monkey-weal';
So watch'd occafion, broke his chain,
And fought his native woods again.
The hairy fylvans round him prefs,
Aftonifh'd at his ftrut and drefs.
Some praise his fleeve, and others glote
Upon his rich embroider'd coat,
His dapper perriwig commending,
With the black tail behind depending;
His powder'd back, above, below,
Like hoary frofts, or fleecy fnow;
But all, with envy and desire,
His fluttering fhoulder-knot admire.
Hear and improve, he pertly cries;
I come to make a nation wife.
Weigh your own worth; support your place,
The next in rank to human race.
In cities long I pafs'd my days,
Convers'd with men, and learn'd their
Their drefs, their courtly manners fee;
Reform your ftate, and copy me.
Seek ye to thrive ? In flattery deal;
Your fcorn, your hate, with that conceal..
Seem only to regard your friends,
But ufe them for your private ends..
E.3.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit;
Ee prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit..
Bend all your force to fpatter merit;:
Scandal is conversation's spirit.
Boldly to every thing pretend,
And men your talents fhall commend.
I knew the great. Obferve me right;
So fhall you grow, like man, polite.
He fpoke, and bow'd. With muttering jaws 55 The wondering circle grinn'd applaufe. Now, warm'd with malice, envy, fpite, Their moft obliging friends they bite ;. And, fond to copy human ways, Practife new mischiefs all their days.
Thus the dull lad, too tall for school,
With travel finishes the fool;
Studious of every coxcomb's airs,
He drinks, games, dreffes, whores, and fwears; O'erlooks with fcorn all virtuous arts,
For vice is fitted to his parts.
THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE PHEASANTs.
HE Sage, awak'd at early day,
Through the deep forest took his way;
Drawn by the music of the groves,
Along the winding gloom he roves :
From tree to tree the warbling throats
Prolong the fweet alternate notes;
But, where he paft, he terror threw,
The fong broke fhort, the warblers flew;
The thrushes chatter'd with affright,
And nightingales abhorr❜d his fight;.
All animals before him ran,
To fhun the hateful fight of man.
Whence is this dread of every creature?
they our figure, or our nature!
As thus he walk'd in mufing thought,
His ear imperfect accents caught;
With cautious step he nearer drew,
By the thick fhade conceal'd from view.
High on the branch a pheasant stood,
Around her all her liftening brood;
Proud of the bleffings of her neft,
She thus a mother's care exprefs'd.
"No dangers here fhall circumvent,.
Within the woods enjoy content.
Sooner the hawk or vulture truft
Than man, of animals the worst..
In him ingratitude you find,.
A vice peculiar to the kind.
The sheep, whofe annual fleece is dy'ð:
To guard his health, and serve his pride,.
Forc'd from his fold and native plain,
Is in the cruel fhambles flain.
The fwarms who, with industrious skill,
His hives with wax and honey fill,
In vain whole fummer-days employ'd,
Their ftores are fold, the race deftroy'd,
What tribute from the goofe is paid!
Does not her wing all fcience aid ?
Does it not lovers' hearts explain,
And drudge to raise the merchant's gain?
What now rewards this general use?
He takes the quills, and eats the goofe.
Man then avoid, deteft his ways,
So fafety fhall prolong your days.
When fervices are thus acquitted,
Be fure we Pheasants must be spitted.”.
THE PIN AND THE NEEDLE.
APIN who long had ferv'd a beauty,
Proficient in the toilette's duty,
Had form'd her fleeve, confin'd her hair,
Or given her knot a smarter air,
Now nearest to her heart was plac'd,
Now in her manteau's tail difgrac'd:
But could fhe partial Fortune blame,
Who faw her lovers ferv'd the fame?
At length from all her honours caft,
Through various turns of life the past;
Now glitter'd on a taylor's arm,
Now kept a beggar's infant warm;
Now, rang'd within a mifer's coat,
Contributes to his yearly groat ;
Now, rais'd again from low approach,
She vifits in the doctor's coach:
Here, there, by various fortune toft,
At laft in Gresham-hall was loft.
Charm'd with the wonders of the show,
On every fide, above, below,
She now of this or that inquires,
What least was understood admires.
'Tis plain, each thing fo ftruck her mind, Her head's of virtuofo kind.
And pray what's this, and this, dear Sir?" 25 "A Needle," fays th' interpreter.
She knew the name; and thus the fool
Addrefs'd her as a tailor's tool.
"A Needle with that filthy ftone,
Quite idle, all with ruft o'ergrown!
You better might employ your parts,
And aid the fempstress in her arts ;
But tell me how the friendship grew
Between that paltry flint and you.”
"Friend, fays the Needle, ceafe to blame; 35 I follow real worth and fame.
Know'st thou the loadstone's power and art,
That virtue virtues can impart?
What had I been? the guide of thread,
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