He fows, he reaps the harveft's gain;
We fhare the toil, and fhare the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appease your difcontented mind,.
And act the past by Heaven affign'd.".
The tumult ceas'd. The Colt fubinitted, And, like his ancestors, was bitted.
FABLE. XLIV
THE HOUND AND THE HUNTSMAN
MPERTINENCE at firft is borne
With heedlefs flight, or fmiles of fcorn;
Teaz'd into wrath, what patience bears
The noify fool who perfeveres
The morning wakes, the Huntfman founds,
At once ruth forth the joyful Hounds;
They feek the wood with eager pace,
Through bufh, through brier, explore the chace:
Now fcatter'd wide they try the plain,
And fnuff the dewy turf in vain.
What care, what industry, what pains !
What univerfal filence reigns!
Ringwood, a dog of little fame,
Young, pert, and ignorant of game,
At once difplays his babbling throat ;
The pack, regardless of the note,
Purfue the fcent; with louder ftrain
He ftill perfifts to vex the train.
"The Huntsman to the clamour flies,
The fmacking lafh he fiartly plies.
His ribs all welk'd, with howling tone
The puppy thus exprefs'd his moan:
I know the mufic of my tongue
Long fince the pack with envy ftung.
What will not fpite? These bitter fmarts
Lowe to my fuperior parts.'
"When Puppies prate, the Huntfman cry'd,
They fhew both ignorance, and pride;
Fools may our fcorn, not envy, raife;
For envy is a kind of praife.
Had not thy forward neify tongue
Proclaim'd thee always in the wrong,
Thou might'ft have mingled with the reft,
And ne'er thy foolish nofe confeft;
But fools, to talking ever prone,
Are fure to make their follies known."
THE POET AND THE ROSÉ.
IHATE the man who builds his name:
On ruins of another's fame.
Thus prudes, by characters o'erthrown,
Imagine that they raise their own.
Thus fcribblers, covetous of praise,
Think flander can transplant the bays.
Beauties and bards have equal pride,
With both all rivals are decry'. S
Who praifes Lefbia's eyes and feature,
Muft call her fifter aukward creature
For the kind flattery's fure to charm,
When we fome other nymph difarm.
As in the cool of early day
A Poet fought the fweets of May,
The garden's fragrant breath afcends,
And every ftalk with odour bends
A Rofe he pluck'd, he gaz'd, admir'd,
Thus finging, as the Mufe infpir'd:
"Go, Rofe, my Chloe's bofon grace;
"How happy fhall I prove,
“Might I supply that envy'd place
With never-fading love!"
"There, Phoenix-like, beneath her eye,
* Involv'd in fragrance, burn and die.
"Know, haplefs Flower that thou shalt find 25 "More fragrant Roses there;
"I fee thy withering head reclin'd "With envy and defpair!
"One common fate we both must prove
"You die with envy, I with love."
Spare your comparisons, reply'd
An angry Rofe, who grew befide.
Of all mankind you should not flout us;
What can a Poet do without us?
In every love-fong Roses bloom;
We lend you colour and perfume:
Does it to Chloe's charms conduce,
To found her praife on our abuse
Muft we, to flatter her, be made
To wither, envy, pine, and fade?
THE CUR, THE HORSE, AND THE SHEPHERD'S DOG.
HE lad of all-fufficient merit
With modefty ne'er damps his fpirit;
Profuming on his own deferts,
On all alike his tongue exerts";"
His noify jokes at random throws,"
And pertly fpatters friends and foes.
In wit and war the bully race
Contribute to their own difgrace:
Too fate the forward youth thall find
That jokes are fometinres paid in kind;
Or, if they canker in the breast,
"He makes a foe who makes a jest.
A village Cur, of fhappish race,
The perteft puppy of the place,
Imagin'd that his treble throat
Was bleft with Mufic's fweetest note;
In the mid road he basking lay,
The yelping nuifance of the way;
For not a creature pafs'd along,
But had a fample of his fong.
Soon as the trotting Steed he hears,
He ftarts, he cocks his dapper ears;
Away he fcowers, affaults his hoof;
Now near him fnarls, now barks aloof;
With thrill unpertinence attends,
Nof leaves him till the village ends
t chanc'd, upon his evil day,
A Pad came pacing down the way
The Cur, with never ceafing tongue,
Upon the paling traveller fprung.
The Horfe, from fcorn provok'd to i̟re
Flung backward; rolling in the mire,
The Puppy howl'd, and bleeding lay';
The Pad in peace purfued his way.
A Shepherd's Dog, who faw the deed,
Detefting the vexatious breed,
Bespoke lm thus: "When coxcombs prate,
They kindle wrath, contempt, or hate
Thy teazing tongue had judgement ay'd,
Thou hadft not like a puppy dy'd?"
THE COURT OF DEATH.
DEATH, on a folemn night of state,
In all his pomp of terror fate :
Th' attendants of his gloomy reign,
Diseases dire, a ghaftly train !
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