« PreviousContinue »
Both Heckley-holc and Mary-bone
In musing contemplatioa warın, The combats of iny Dog have known.
His lieps milled him to a farm, He ne'er, like bullies coward-hearted,
Where, on the ladder's topmost round, Attacks in public, to be partcd.
A peasant stood: the hainmer's found-
Calis for thv honcti labour there?
This kite, by daily rapine fed,
My heps' annoy, my turkius' dreal, All recking now with sweat and blood, At length his forfeit life hath paid ; A while the parted warriors stood,
Sce on the wall his wings display'd; Then pour'd upon the meddling foe,
Here nail'd, a tcrror to luis kind, Who, worried, howld and sprawld below. My fowls shall future lafety find ; He rose ; and limping from the fray,
My yard the thriving poultry feed, By both sides mangled Incak'd away.
And my barn's refule fat the breed.
Friend, says the Sage, thc doom is wise ; § 155. FABLE XXXV. Ibe Barley Mow and For public good the murd'rer dies. the Dung bill.
But if these tyrants of the air
Demand a sentence so severe,
Think how the glutton man devours;
What bloody feasts regale his hours ! And spring like mushrooms in a day!
, impudence of pow'r and might, They think it mean to condescend
Thus to condemn a lank or kite,
When thou perhaps, carniv'rous finner,
Hold! cried the Clown, with pallion heated, As 'cross his yard, at early day,
Shall kites and men alike be treated ? A careful farmer took his way,
When Heaven the world with creatures stor'd, lic stopp'd, and, leaning on his fork,
Man was ordain'd their for’reign lord. Obferv'd the faii's inceflant work.
Thus tyrants boast, the Saje jeplied, In thought he measur'd all his fore;
Whole murders spring from power and pride. His geete, his hogs, he number'd o'er:
Own then this malike kite is flain In fancy weigh d che ficecos fhoin,
Thy greater lux'ry to fufiain; And multiplied the next yeur's corni.
For : “ Petty rogies submit to fate, A Barley-mow, which food butide,
“ That great onesnay enjoy their ftate." Thus to its musing master cried:
7 Farner's l!'ife Say, good Sir, is.it fit or right
(dobe Rrogen. To treat mc with neglect and thight? Me, who contribute to your cheer,
WHY are those
thy droops your head?
Is then your och rhifbind dead?
Hath no one fince iis death app:ied ?.
Alas! you know the cause 100 well: Are thosc poor sweepings of a groom,
The 'alt is fpilt, to me it fell. That filthy light, that nauseous fume,
Then, to contribuie to my lois, Meet objects here ? Command it hence :
Niy knife and fork were laid across ; A thing so mean must give offence.
On Friday too! the day I dread! The hunble Dunghill thus replicd:
Would I were safe at home in bed!. Thy master hears, and mocks thy pride ; Lait night (I vow to heaven 'tis true) Infult not thus the neck and low;
Bounce from the fire a coffin fiew, In me thy benefactor know:
Next poft some fatal news shall tell. My warm alliance gave thec birih,
God send my Cornith friends be well! Or thou hadít perifn d low in caith;
Unhappy widow, cease thy tears, But upstarts, to support their station,
Nor feel affliction in thy fears : Cancel at once all on ligation.
Let not thy stomach be suspended;
Eat now, and weep when dinner 's ended! $ 156 FABLE XXXVI. Prtbuycras and the And when the builcr clears the table, Countryman.
For thy dessert I'll read my fable. PYTHAG’R AS rose at early dawn,
Betwixt her swagging panniers' load By soaring medication drawn,
A farmer's wife to market rode, To breathe the fragrance of the day,
And jogging on, with thoughtful care, Through flow'ry fields he took his way. Summ'd up the profits of her ware ; * Garth's Dispensary,
When starting from her silver dream,
Now more solicitous he grew, Thus far and wide was heard her scrcam : And set their future lives in view; That Raven on yon left-hand oak
He saw that all repect and duty (Curse on his ill-beriding croak!)
Were paid to ivealih, to pow'r, and beauty. Bodes me no good. No more the said,
Once more he cries, Accept my pray'r; When poor blind Ball, with Ituinbling tread, Make lovid
progeny thy care. Fell prone; o'erturn'd the pannier lay, Let my first hope, my fav’rite boy, And her mah'd eggs beftrew'd the way.
All fortune's richeit gifts enjoy.
My next with strong ambition fire :
Till he the step of pow'r ascend,
And courtiers to their idol bend ! Dame, quoth the Raven, fpare your oaths, With ev'ry grace, with ev'ry charm, Unclench your fift, and wipe your clothes. My daughter's perfect features arm. But why on me those curtes thrown?
It Heaven approve, a Father's bleft. Goody, the fault was all your own;
Jove mules, and grants his full request. Furnid you laid this brittle ware
The firit, a miler at the heart, On Dun, the old fure-footed mare,
Studious of ev'ry griping art, Though all the Ravens of the hundred
Heaps hoards on hoards with anxious pain, With croaking had your tongue out-thunder'd, And all his life derotes to gain. Sure-footed Dur had kept his legs,
He feels no joy, his cares increase, And you, good woman, sav'd your eggs.
He neither wakes nor sleeps in peace;
In fancied want (a wretch complete !) $158. FABLE XXXVII. The Turkey and the fint. He ftarves, and yet he dares not eat. other men we faults can fpy,
The next to ludden honours grew:
The thriving art of courts he knew;
lle reach'd the height of pow'r and place, To our own tronger errors blind.
Then fell, the victim of disgrace. A Turkey, tir'd of common food,
Beauty with early bloom fupplies Foriook the barn, and fought the wood;
His daughter's cheek, and points her eyes. Behind her ran her inraut train,
The vain crqilette cach luit disdains, Collecting here and there a grain.
And glories in her lover's pains. Draw near, my birds, the mother cries,
With age the fades, each lover flics, This hill delicious fare fupplies;
Conte:mn'd, forlorn, the pines and dies. Behold, the buły Negro race:
When Jove the Father's grief survey'd, See, millions blacken all the place!
And heard im Heaven and Fate upbraid, Fear not. Like me with freedom eat;
Thus fpoke the God: By outward Ihow An Ant is most deligh:ful meat.
Men judge of happiness and woe: How bless’d, how envied were our life,
Shall ignorance of good and ill
Dare to direct ta' Eternal Will ?
Seek virtue: and, of that pofleft,
To Providence resign the reft.
The Two Monkeys. From the low peasant to the lord,
THE learned, full of inward pride, The Turkey i mokes on ev'ry board.
The Fops of outward show deride: Sure men for glutrony are curs'd :
The Fop, with learning at defiance, Of the seven deadly fins the worst.
Scoffs at the pedant, and the science : An Ant, who clinib'd beyond his reach, The Don, a form 1, folcımın ftrutter, Thus ansiver'd from the neighb'ring biech: Defpiles Mineur's airs and Autier ; Ere you remark another's fin,
While Monsieur mocks the formal fool, Bid thy own conscience look within;
Who looks, and speaks, and walks by rule. Controul thy more voracious bill, .
Britain, a medley of the twain, Nor for a breakfast nations kill.
As pert as France, as grave as Spain,
In fancy wiser than the rest, $ 159. FABLE XXXIX. Tbc Fuber und Jupiter. Laughs at them both, of both the jest. THE Man to Jove his fuit preferid; Is not the poet's chiming close
He begg'd a wife ; his pray'r was heard. Cenfur’d by all the fons of profe? Jove wonder'd at his bold addrefling:
Wliile bards of quick imagination
Despise the fleepy profe narration.
For what are we but apes to them?
Tico Monkevş went to Southwark fair, And a fine girl reward his joys.
No critics bad a fourer air:
They forc'd their way thro' draggled folks, But the more knowing feather'd race
Whenc'et to visit light I deign,
What flocks of fowl compose my train! To see their grave, observing face,
Like llaves, they crowd my flight behind, Provok'd a laugh through all the place. And own me of superior kind.
Brother, says Pug, and turn’d his head, The Fariner laugh’d, and thus replied:
Thou dull important bump of pride,
Depreciate birds of warbling song?
Regard thee as thou art, an Owl.
Besides, proud blockhead, be not vain Aloft in air the vaulter fwings;
Of what thou call'st thy llaves and train. Distorted now, now prone depends,
Few follow wifdom, or her rules;
Fools in derifion follow fools.
§ 362. PADLE XLII. The Jugglers.
You 'd think (so far his art transcends)
The devil at his fingers' ends. High on the twig I've seen you cling,
Vice heard his fame, she read his bill;
Convinc'd of his inferior fkill,
Defied the man of an aloud:
Is this then he fo fam'c for flight? These emulators of our kind
Can this flow bungler cheat your fight! Difcern our worth, our parts regard,
Dares he with sne difpute the prize? Who our mean mimics thus reward.
I leave it to impartial cyes. Brother, the grinning mate replies,
Provok'd, the Juggler cried, 'Tis done; In this I grant that man is wile.
In science I submit to none. While good example they pursue,
Thus said, the cups and balls he play'd,
By turns this here, that there, convey'd ;
Are by a fillip turn'd to birds.
His little boxes change the grain; To meet men always bolt upright,
Trick after trick deludes the train. Because we fomctimes walk on two!
He shakes his bag, he thews all fair; I hate the imitating crew.
His fingers spread, and nothing there;
Then bids it rain with show'rs of gold : $ 161. FABLE XLI. Toe Owi and tbe Farmer. And now his iv'ry eggs are told;
But when from thence the hen he draws, AN Owl of grave deport and micn,
Who (like the Turk) was feldom seen, Amaz'd spectators hum applause. Witlin a barn had chole his fiation,
Vice now stepp'd forth, and took the place As fit for prey and contemplatione
With all the forins of his grimace. Upon a beam aloft he fits,
This magic looking-glass, the cries, And nods, and seems to think, by Bts.
(There, hand it round) will charm your eyes So have I seen a man of news
cager cye the light defir'd, Or Poft-boy or Gazette peruse;
And ev'ry man himicif admir'd. Smoke, nod, and talk with voice profound, Next, to a fenator addressing, And fix the fate of Europe round.
See this bank-note; obferve the bleffing, Sheaves piid on scares hid all the floor. Breathe on the bill. Hergh, pass ! 'tis gone. At dawn of morn, to view his store,
Upon his lips a padlock thone. The Farmer came. The hooting gues A second puff the magic broke; His felf importance thus exprefs d':
The padlock vanith'd, and he spoke. Reaton in man is mere pretence :
Twelve bottles rang d upon the board, How weak, how shallow is his fense!
All full, with hcady liquor stor’d, To treat with scorn the Bird of Night,
By clean conveyance aitappear, Declares his folly or his spite.
And now, two bloody swords are there. Then, too, how partiai is his praise !
A purle the to a thief expos'd; The lark's, the linnet's chirping lays,
At once his ready fingers clos'd. To his ill-judging cars are fine,
He upes his fift, ihe trealure 's fed; And nightingales are all divine.
He lees a halter in its tead.
She bids ambition hold a wand;
A gen’ral nod approv'd the cause, He grasps a hatchet in his hand.
And all the circle ncigh'd applaufe. A box of charity the lhews :
When lo! with grave and folemn pace, Blow here; and a church-warden blows. A Steed advanc'd before the race; 'Tis vanith'd with conveyance neat,
age and long experience wise, And on the table smokes a treat.
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes ; She thakes the dice, the board she knocks, And, to the murmurs of the train, And from all pockers fills her box.
Thus spoke the Neftor of the plain: She next a meagre rake addre's'd:
When I had health and Itrength like you, This picture fee ; her shape, her brçast! The roils of servitude I knew; What youth, and what inviting eyes !
Now grateful man rewards my pains, Hold her, and have her. With surprise And gives me all these wide domains. His hand expos'd a box of pills,
At will I crop the year's increase; And a loud laugh proclaim d his ills.
My latter life is relt and peace. A counter in a miser's hand
I grant, to man we lend our pains, Grew twenty guineas at command.
And aid him to correct the plains : She bids his heir the sum retain,
But doth not he divide ihe care, And 'tis a counter now again.
Through all the labours of the year!
How many thousand structures rise,
To fence us froni inclement skics! And not one thing you saw, or drew, For us he bears the sultry day, But chang'd from what was first in view. And stores up all our winter's hay.
The Juggler now, in grief of heart, He rows, he reaps the harvest's grain ;
We share the toil, and share the gain.
Appease your disccntcntcd mind,
And act the part by Heaven afsign'd.
The tumult ccasid. The Colt submitted ; $ 163. FABLE XLIII. The Council of Horses. And, like his ancestors, was bitted. UPON a time, a neighing Steed, Who graz'd among a num'rous breed,
§ 164. With mutiny had fir'd the train,
The Hound and be
IMPERTINENCE at first is borne
With heedless flight, or smiles of scorn; A Colt, whose cye-balls flam'd with ire, Tcas’d into wrath, what patience bears Elate with strength and youthful fire,
The noisy fool who perfeveres ? In hafte ficpp'd forth before the rest
The inorning wakcs, the Huntsman sounds, And thus the lift'ning thrung address'd : At once rush forth the joyful hounds. Good gods ! how abject is our race,
They seek the wood with eager pace; Condemn'd to sav'ry and dilgrace!
Thio' buth, thro' brier, explore the chace. Shall we our servitude retain,
Now, scatter'd wide, they try the plain, Because our fires have borne the chain?
And snuff the deuy turf in vain. Confider, friends, your strength and might; What care, what industry, what pains ! 'Tis conquest to assert your right.
What universal silence reigns ! How cumbrous is the gilded coach!
Ringwood, a dog.of little fame, The pride of man is our reproach.
Young, pert, and ignorant of game,
At once displays his babbling throat ;
Pursue the scent; with louder strain
He still persists to vex the train. How feeble are the two-legg'd kind!
The Huntiman to the clamour flies; What force is in our nerves combin'd! The smacking lath he smartly plies. Shall then our nobler jaws submit
His ribs all welk'd, with howling tone To foam and champ the galling bit?
The Puppy thus express'd his moan : Shall haughty man my back bestride ?
I know the music of my tongue Shall the sharp spur provoke my lide?
Long since the pack with envy ftung. Forbid it, Heavens ! Reject the rein;
What will not ipite? Thçse bitter Imarts Your thame, your infamy disdain. ·
I owe to my fuperior parts. Let him the lion first controul,
When puspies prate, the Huntsinan cricd, And still the tiger's familh'd growl.
They thew both ignorance and pride : Let us, like them, our freedoin claim,
Fools inay our fcorn, not envy, raise; And make him rremble at our name.
For envy is a kind of praile,
Had not thy forward noisy tongue
A Village-cur, of snappish race, Proclaim'd thee always in the wrong,
The pertest Puppy of the place, Thou might'st have mingled with the rest, Imagin’d that his treble throat And ne'er thy foolish noile confess'd.
Was blest with musie's sweetest note; But fools, to talking ever prone,
In the mid-road he basking lay, Are sure to make their follies known.
The yelping nuisance of the way ;
For not a creature pals'd along, $ 165. FABLE XLV. The Poet and the Rfe. But had a sample of his song. 1 HATE the man who builds his name
Soon as the trotting Aced he heary, On ruins of another's fame.
He starts, he cocks his dapper cars ; Thus prudes by characters o’erthrown
Away he scours, affaults his hoof; Junagine that they raise their own.
Now ucar him Inarks, now barks aloof; Thus scribblers, coverous of praise,
With fhrill impertinence attends ; Think 1ander can transplant the bayi.
Nor leaves him till the village ends. Beauties and bards have equal pride :
It chanc'd, upon his evil day, TVith both all rivals are decried.
A Pad came pacing down the way: Who praises Lefbia's eyes and feature,
The Cur, with never-ccafing tongue, Must call her filter awkward cieature;
Upon the pafling trav'ller sprung. For the kind Aattery 's fore io charm,
The Horfe, from scorn provok'd to irc, When we some other nymph difarm.
Flung back rvard : rolling in the mire As in the cool of early day,
The Puppy howld, and bleeding lay; A Poet lought the fiveets of May,
The Pad in peace pursued his way. The garden's fragrant breath ascends,
A Shepherd's Dog, who saw the deed, And ev'ry stalk with odour bends.
Deiefting the vexatious breed, A Rofe he pluck’d, he gaz'd, admir'd,
Bespoke him thus : When coxcombs prate, Thus singing, as the Mule inspird:
They kindle wrath, contempt, or hate ; Go, Rose, my Chloe's bofom grace:
Thy tealing tongue had judgment tied,
Thou hadît not like a Puppy died.
The Court of Death, With never-fading love! There, Phænix-like, beneath her eyo,
DEATH, on a folemn night of state,
In all his pomp of terror sate; Involv'd in fragrance, burn and dic!
Th'attendants of his gloomy reign, Know, haplets How's, that thou shalt find
Discafes dire, a ghaftly train ! More fragrant roses there :
Crowd the vast Court. With hollow tone, I see thy with’ring head reclin'd
A voice thus thunder'd from the throne : With envy and despair!
This night qur minister we name, One common fate we both must prove;
Let ev'ry servant speak his claim; You die with envy, I with love.
Vierit thall bear this cbon wand. Spare your comparisons, replied
All, at the word, stretch'd forth their hand, An angry Rose who grew befide.
Fever, with burning heat posseft,
I to the weekly bills appeal,
Let those express my fervent zcal ; We lend you colour and perfume.
On er'ry flight occasion ncar, Does it to Chloe's charms conduce,
With violence I persevere. To found her praise on our abufe?
Next Gout appears, with limping pace, Most we, to flatter her, be made
Pleads how he thifts from place to place; To wither, envy, pine, and fade?
From hcad to foot how swift he flies,
And ev'ry joint and finerv plies; $ 166.
The Cur, the Horse, and still working when he fecms fuppreftthe Soepbords Dog
A most tenacious, subborn guest. THE "HE lad of all-fufficient merit
A haggard Spectre from ihe crew With modesty ne'er damps his fpirit; Crawls forth, and thus afferts his due : l'rcsuming on his own deserts,
'Tis I who taint the sweeteft joy, On all alike his tongue exerts;
And in the shape of Love destroy : His noily jokes at random throws,
My Thanks, funk eyes, and nofeless face, And pertly (patters friends and fucs.
Prove my pretension to the place. In wit and war tlic bully race
Stone urg'd his ever-growing force ; Contribute to their own disgrace.
And next Consumption's meagre corse, Too late the forward youth thall find
With fecble voice that scarce was heard, That jokes are sometimes paid in kind; Broke with short coughs, his fuit preferrd : Or, if they canker in the breast,
Let none objeet my ling'ring way, Ile maksó a foe who makes a jett,
I gain, like-Fabius, by delay;