"When (fays the Greyhound) I purfue,
My game is loft, or caught in view;
Beyond my fight the prey 's fecure;
The Hound is flow, but always fure;
And, had I his fagacious fcent,
Jove ne'er had heard my difcontent."
The Lion crav'd the Fox's art;
The Fox the Lion's force and heart:
The Cock implor'd the Pigeon's flight,
Whofe wings were rapid, ftrong, and light:
The Pigeon firength of wing defpis'd,
And the Cock's matchlefs valour priz'd.
The Fishes with'd to graze the plain;
The Beafts, to fkim beneath the main.
Thus, envious of another's ftate,
Each blam'd the partial hand of Fate.
The Bird of Heaven then cry'd aloud: "Jove bids difperfe the murmuring crowd; The God rejects your idle prayers.
Would ye, rebellious Mutineers!
Entirely change your name and nature,
And be the very envy'd creature?
What! filent all, and none confent?
Be happy, then, and learn content;
Nor imitate the restlefs mind,
And proud ambition, of mankind."
THE WILD BOAR AND THE RAM.
AGAINST an elm a fheep was ty'd,
The butcher's knife in blood was dy'd;
The patient flock, in filent fright,
From far beheld the horrid fight.
A favage Boar, who near them ftood,
Thus mock'd to fcorn the fleecy brood.
66 All cowards fhould be fery'd like you.
See, fee your murderer is in view:
With purple hands, and reeking knife,
He ftrips the fkin yet warm with life.
Your quarter'd fires, your bleeding dams,
The dying bleat of harmless lambs,
Call for revenge. O ftupid Race!
The heart that wants revenge is bafe."
I grant, an ancient Ram replies,
We bear no terror in our eyes;
Yet think us not of foul fo tame,
Which no repeated wrongs inflame;
Infenfible of every ill,
Because we want thy tufks to kill.
Know, thofe, who violence purfue,
Give to themselves the vengeance due;
For in these maflacres they find
The two chief plagues that waste mankind.
Our skin fupplies the wrangling bar,
It wakes their flumbering fons to war;
And well Revenge may rest contented,
Since drums and parchment were invented."
HE wind was high, the window shakes,
With fudden ftart the Mifer wakes ;.
Along the filent room he stalks,
Looks back, and trembles as he walks.
Each lock and every bolt he trics,
In every creek and corner pries;
Then opes the cheft with treasure ftor'd,
And ftands in rapture o'er his hoard.
But now, with fudden qualms poffeft,
He wrings his hands, he beats his breaft;
By confcience ftung, he wildly flares,
And thus his guilty foul declares :
"Had the deep earth her ftores confin❜d, This heart had known fweet peace of mind.
But virtue's fold. Good Gods what price
Can recompenfe the pangs of vice!
O bane of good! feducing cheat!
Can man, weak man, thy power defeat ?
Gold banifh'd honour from the mind,
And only left the name behind;
Gold fow'd the world with every ill;
Gold taught the murderer's fword to kill :
'Twas gold inftructed coward-hearts
In treachery's more pernicious arts.
Who can recount the mifchiefs o'er ?
Virtue refides on earth no more
He fpoke, and figh'd. In angry mood
Plutus, his god, before him stood.
The Mifer, trembling, lock'd his chest;
The Vifion frown'd, and thus addrefs'd:
"Whence is this vile ungrateful rant,.
Each fordid rafcal's daily cant?
Did I, bafe wretch! corrupt mankind?
The fault's in thy rapacious mind.`.
Because my bleffings are abus'd,'
Muft I be cenfur'd, curs'd, accus'ď? ́
Ev'n Virtue's felf by knaves is made
But, when to virtuous hands 'tis given,
It bleffes, like the dews of Heaven :
Like Heaven, it hears the orphan's cries,
And wipes the tears from widows' eyes.
Their crimes on gold fhall Mifers lay,
Who pawn'd their fordid fouls for pay?
Let bravoes, then, when blood is fpilt,
Upbraid the paffive foul with guilt."
D 4
THE LION, THE FOX, AND THE GEESE.
ALION, tir'd with state-affairs,
Quite fick of pomp, and worn with cares,
Refolv'd (remote from noise and ftrife)
In peace to pafs his latter life.
It was proclaim'd; the day was fet;
Behold the general council met..
The Fox was viceroy, nam'd. The crowd
To the new regent humbly bow'd.
Wolves, bears, and mighty tigers, bend,
And ftrive who moft fhall condefcend.
He straight affumes a folemn grace,
Collects his wifdom in his face..
The crowd admire his wit, his fenfe;
Each word hath weight and confequence.
The flatterer all his art difplays :
He who hath power is fure of praife.
A Fox ftept forth before the reft,
And thus the fervile throng addreft:
"How vaft his talents, born to rule,
And train'd in Virtue's honest school!
What clemency his temper fways!
How uncorrupt are all his ways!
Beneath his conduct and command,.
Rapine fhall ceafe to wafte the land.
His brain hath ftratagem and art;
Prudence and mercy rule his heart.
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