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Tis certain that you'll be the jest
One morning when the daw appear'), Of every inseet, bird and beast,
The project was propos'd and heaid: When you lie batter'd by your fall
And though the bird was much surpris'd Just at the bottom of the wall.
To find friend Pug so ill advis'd, Be prudent then, improve the pow'rs
He rather chose that he shou'd try Which nature gives in place of ours.
At his own proper risk to fly, You'll find them readily conduce
Than hazard, in a case so nice, At once to plessure and to use.
To shock him by too free advice. But airy whims and crotchets lead
Quoth be, “I'm certain that you'll find To certain loss, and ne'er succeed:
The project answer to your inind; As folks, though inly vex'd and teas'd,
Without suspicion, dread or care, Will oft seeal satisfy'd and pleas'd.”
At once commit you w the air; The ape approvd of every word,
You'll soar aloft, or, if you please, At this time utter'd by the bird:
Proceed straight forwards at your ease: But nothing in opinion chang'd,
The whole depends on resolution, 'Thought only how to be reveng'd.
Which you possess from constitution ; It happend when t'ie dlay was fair,
And if you follow as I lead, That Poil was set to take the air,
'Tis past a doubt you must succeed." Just where the monkey oft sat poring
So saying, from the turret's height About experiments in soaring:
The Jack-daw shot with downward flight, Dissembling his contempt and rage,
And on the edge of a canal, He stept up softly to the cage,
Some fifty paces from the wall, And with a sly malicious grin,
'Lighted obsequious to attend Accosted thus the bird within.
The monkey when he sbould descend : You say, I am not form'd for fight;
But he, altho' he had believ'd In this you certainly are right;
The flatterer and was deceiv'd, 'Tis very plain upon reflection,
Felt some inisgivings at his heart But to yourself there's no objection,
lo vent'ring on so new an art : Since flying is the very trade
But yet at last, 'tween hope and fear, For which the winged race is made;
Himself he trusted to the air ; And therefore for our mutual sport,
But far'd like him whom puets mention, I'll make you fly, you can't be hurt.”
With Dedalus's old invention : With that he slyly slipt the string
Directly downwards on his head Which held the cage up by the ring.
He fell, and lay an hour for dead. In vain the parrot begg'd and pray'd,
The various creatures in the place, No word tas minded that she said ;
Ilad dift'rent thoughts upon the case, Down went the cage, and on the ground
From some bis fate compassion drew, Bruisd and half-dead poor Poll was found, But those I must confess were few ; Pug,who for some time had attended
The rest esteem'd him rightly serv'd, To that alone wiich now was ended,
And in the manner he deserv'd, Again bad leisure to pursue
For playing tricks beyond his sphere, The project he had first in view.
Nor thought the punishment severe. Qooth be,“ A person if he's wise
They gather'd round him as he lay, Will only with bis friends advise,
And jeerd him when he limp'd away. They know his temper and his parts,
Pug, disappointed thus and hurt, And have his interest near their hearts,
And grown besides the public sport,
Found all his different passions change
The daw 'twas useless to pursue ;
His helpless brood, as next in view, Or judging wrong, from spleen and hate With unrelenting paws he seiz'd, His talents slight or underrate:
One's neck he wrung, another squeez'd, I acted sure with small reflection
Till of the pumber four or five, In asking counsel and direction
No single bird was left alive. From a sly minion whom I know
Thus copinsellors, in all regards To be my rival and my foe:
Though different, meet with like rewards, Que who will constantly endeavour
The story shows the certain fate To burt mc in our lady's favour,
Of every mortal soon or late, And watch and plot to keep me down,
Whose evil genius for his crimes
Connects with any fop that rhymes.
THE BOY AND THE RAINBOW My debtor too for many a crust;
Declare, ye sages,
if Which in the window oft I lay
ye For him to come and take away :
'Mongst animals of ev'ry kind, From gratitude no doubt he'll give
Of each condition, sort, and size, Buch counsel as I may receive;
From whales and elephants to flies, Well back'd with reasons strong and plain A creature that mistakes his plan, To push me forward or restraiu."
And errs so constantly as man
Each kind pursues his proper good,
And left him to compute his gains,
With nought bui labour for his pains.
CELIA AND HER MIRROR. Descend to instances and try;
As there are various sorts of minds, An ox will scarce attempt to fly,
So friendships are of diff'rent kinds : Or leave his pasture in the wood,
Some, constant when the object's near, With fishes to explore the flood.
Soon vanish if it disappear. Man only acts, of every creature,
Another sort, with equal flame, In opposition to his nature.
In absence will be still the same : The happiness of human kind,
Some folks a trifle will provoke, Consists in rectitude of mind,
Their weak attachment soon is broke; A will subdu'd to reason's sway,
Some great offences only move And passions practis'd to obey ;
To change in friendship or in love. An open and a gen'rous heart,
Affection, when it has its source
In things that shift and change of course,
Must likewise fade and melt away.
But when 'tis of a nobler kind, Else Plato reasons much amiss:
Inspir'd by rectitude of mind, But foolish mortals still pursue
Whatever accident arrives, False happiness in place of true;
It lives, and death itself survives; Ambition serves us for a guide,
Those different kinds reduc'd to two, Or lust, or avarice, or pride;
False friendship may be call'd, and true. While reason no assent can gain,
In Celia's drawing-room of late And revelation warns in vain.
Some female friends were met to chat ; Hence through our lives, in every stage,
Where after much discourse had past, From infancy itself to age,
A portrait grew the theme at last : A happiness we toil to find,
'Twas Celia's you must understand, Which still avoids us like the wind;
And by a celebrated hand. Ev'n when we think the prize our own,
Says one, “That picture sure must strike, At once 'tis vanish’d, lost, and gone.
In all respects it is so like; You'll ask me wby I thus rehearse
Your very features, shape and air All Epictetus in my verse,
Express'd, believe me, to a bair: And if I fondly hope to please
The price I'm sure cou'd not be small,” With dry reflections such as these,
“ Just fifty guineas frame and all.”So trite, so hackney'd, and so stale ?
“ That mirror there is wond'rous fine."I'll take the hint and tell a tale.
“ I own the bauble cost me nine; One ev'ning as a simple suain
I'm fairly cheated you may swear, His fick attended on the plain,
For never was a thing so dear.” The shining bow he chanc'd to spy,
“ Dear!"-quoth the looking-glassand spoke, Which warns us when a show'r is nigh;
“ Madam, it wou'd a saint provoke: With brightest rays it seem'd to glow,
Must that same gaudy thing be own'd Its distance eighty yards or so.
A pennyworth at fifty pound; This bumpkin had it seems been told
While I at nine am reckon'd dear, The story of the cup of gold,
'Tis what I never thought to hear. Which Fame reports is to be found
Let both our merits now be try'd, Just where the rainbow meets the ground; This fair assembly shall decide; He therefore felt a sudden itch
And I will prove it to your face, To seize the geblet and be rich;
That you are partial in the case. Hoping, (yet hopes are oft but vain):
I give a likeness far more true No more to toil through wind and rain,
Than any artist ever drew : But sit indulging by the fire,
And what is vastly more, express 'Midst ease and plenty, like a 'squire:
Your whole variety of dress: He mark'd the very spot of land
From morn to noun, from noon to night, On which the rainbow seem'd to stand,
I watcb each change and paint it right; And stepping forwards at his leisure
Pesides I'm mistress of the art, Expected to have found the treasure.
Which conquers and secures a heart. But as he mov'd, the colourd ray
I teach you how to use those arms, Still chang'd its place and slipt away,
7 hat vary and assist your charms, As seeming his approach to shun;
And in the triumphs of the fair, From walking he began to run,
Claim half the merit for my share: But all in vain, it still withdrew
So when the truth is fairly told, As nimb y as he cou'd pursue ;
l'in worth at least my weight in gold; At last through many a bog and lake,
But that vain thing of which you speak Rough craggy road and thorny brake,
Becomes quite useless in a week, It led the easy fool, till night
Por, though it had no other vice, Approach'd, then vanish'd in his sight,
'Tis out of fashion in a trice :
The cap is chang'd, the cloke, the gown;
A tale an ancient bard has told It must no longer stay in town;
Of two poor fishermen of old, But goes la course to hide a wall
Their names were (lest I should forget With others in your country-hall."
And put the reader in a pet, The mirror thus :—the nymph reply'd,
Lest critics too shou'd make a pother) Your merit cannot be deny’d:
The one Asphelio, Gripus t'other. l'he portrait too, I must contess,
The men were very pour, their trade lo some respects has vastly less.
Cou'd scarce afford them daily bread: But you yourself will treely grant
Though ply'd with industry and care Ibat it has virtues which you want.
Through the whole season, foul and fair, 'Tis certain that you can express
Upon a rock their cottage stood, My shape, my teatures, and my dress,
On all sides bounded by the fioud : Not just as well, but better to
It was a miserable seat, Than Kneller once or Ramsay now.
Like cold and hunger's worst retreat: But that same image in your heart
And yet it serv'd them both for lite, Which thus excels the painter's art,
As neither cou'd maintain a wite; The shortest absence can detace,
Two walls were rock, and two were sand, And put a monkey's in its place:
Ramm’d up with stakes and made to standa That other which the canvas bears,
A roof hung threat'ning o'er their heads Unchang'd and constant, lasts for years,
Of boards half-rotten, thatch'd with reeds. Wou'd feep its lustre and its bloom
And as no thief e'er touch'd their store, 'Though it were here and I at Romne.
A hurdle serv'd them for a door.
Their beds were leaves ; against the wall
On one side lay an old patch'd wherry
Like Charon’s on the Stygian ferry : You'll tell me, in your usual way,
On t’ other, baskets and a net, Of furtuw'd cheeks and locks grown gray ;
With sea-weed foul and always wet. Your geo'rous rival, not so cold,
These sorry instruments of trade Will ne'er suggest that I am uid;
Were all the furniture they had: Nor mark when time and slow disease
For they had neither spit nor pot, Hare stoln the graces wont to please;
Unless my author has forgot. But keep my image to be seen
Once, some few hours ere break of day, lo the full blossom of sixteen :
As in their hut our fishers lay, Bestuwing freely all the praise
The one awak'd and wak'd his neighbour, I merited in better days.
That both might ply their daily labour; You will (when I am turn'd to dust,
For cold and hunger are confest For beauties die, as all things must,
No triends to indolence or rest, And you remember but by seeing)
“Friend,” quoth the drowsy swain, and swore, Forget that e'er I had a being :
“What you have done bas hurt me more But in that picture I shall live,
Than all your service can repay diy charms shall death itself survive,
For years to come by night and day; Aud figur'd by the pencil there
You've broke the thought on't makes me madTell that your mistress once was fair.
The finest dream that e'er I had.” (prove Weigh each advantage and defect,
Quoth Gripus: “ Friend your speech wou'd The portrait merits most respect :
You mad indeed, or else in love; Your qualities would recommend
For dreams shou'd weigh but light with those A servant rather than a friend;
Who feel the want of food and clothes: But service sure, in every case,
I guess, though simple and untaught,
You dream'd about a lucky draught,
“ You're wond'ruus sbrewd, upon my troth, THE FISHERMEN.
Asphelio cry'd,' and right iu boih;
My dream had gold in't, as you said,
And fishing too, our constant trade;
And since your guess has hit so near', That hope when moderate is best:
In short the whole on't you shall hear. But when indulg'd beyond due measure,
“ Upon the shore I seem'd to stand, It yields a vain deceitful pleasure,
My rod and tackle in my hand ; Which cheats the simple, and betrays
The baited hook full oft I threw, To mischief in a thousand ways:
But still in vain, I nothing drew: Just hope assists in all our toils,
A fish at last appear'd tv bite, The wheels of industry it oils;
The cork div'd quickly out of sight, In great attempts the bosom tires,
And soon the dipping rud I found And zeal and cunstancy inspires.
With something weighty bent half round: False hope, like a deceitful dream,
Quoth I,. Good luck has come at last, Rests on some visionary scheme,
l've surely made a happy cast: And keeps us idle to our loss,
This fish, when in the market sold, Enchanted with our hands across,
In place of brass will sell for gold;'
CUPID AND THE SHEPHERD,
To bring it safe within my reach
Tis time to quit the fishing trade,
"" If this, quoth Gripus, “is the way You choose, I've nothing more to say ; 'Tis plala tlat dreams of wealth will serve A person who resolves to starve; But sure, to npg a fancy'd case, That never did nor can take place, And for the pleasures it can give Neglect the trade by which we live, Is madness in its greatest beight, Or I mistake the matter quite : Leave such vain fancies to the great, For folly suits a large estate: The rich may safely deal in dreams, Romantic hopes and airy schemes. But you and I, upon my word, Such pastime cannot well afford; And therefore if you would be wise, Take my advice, for once, and rise."
Wuo sets his heart on things below,
A swain, whose lock had gone astray,
is Sir," quoth the shepherd, “ if you'll try. Your arrows soon will make them fly; Or if they brave them and resist, My sling is ready to assist."
Incapable of wounds and pain,". Reply'd the winged youth again,
TO THE POETS.
of These foes our weapons will defy;
“ As black as ink!- if this be true, Immortal made, they never die;
To me 'tis wonderful and new,” But live to haunt me every where,
The sov’reign of the birds reply'd; While I remain within their sphere."
“ But soon the truth on't shall be try'd. “Sir," quoth the swain,“ might I advise, Sir, show your !imbs, and for my sake, You straight show'd get above the skies :
Confute at once this foul mistake, It seems indeed your only way,
For I'll maintain, and I am right, For nothing here is worth your stay:
That, like your feathers, they are white." Beside, when foes like these molest,
• Sir," quoth the swan, “it wou'd be vain You'll find but little peace or rest."
For me a falsehood to maintain;
Put if I had not got a prize
Not half the birds had ever known
What truth now forces ine to own."
THE LOVER AND HIS FRIEND The
arguments which Stuies use ;
'Tis not the point in works of art An empty bauble, and so forth.
With care to furnish every part, I'll offer one, but of a kind
That each, to high perfection rais'd, Not half so subtil and refin'd;
May draw attention and be prais'd,
An object by itself respected,
Not masters only this can do,
But many a vulgar artist too : Shou'd have defects but very small,
We know distinguish'd merit most Or strictly speaking, none at all :
When in the whole the parts are lost, For that success which spreads his fame, When nothing rises up to shine, Provokes each envious tongue to blame,
Or draw us from the chief design. And makes his faults and failings known
When one united full effect Where'er his better parts are shown.
Is felt before we can reflect, Upon a time, as poets sing,
And mark the causes that conspire The birds all waited on their king,
To charm, and force us to admire, His hymeneal rites to grace;
This is indeed a master's part, A How'ry meadow was the place ;
The very summit of his art, They all were frolicsome and gay
And therefore when ye shall rehearse Amidst the pleasures of the day,
To friends for trial of your verse, And ere the festival was clos'd,
Mark their behaviour and their way, A match at singing was propos'd ;
As much, at least, as what they say ; The queen herself a wreath prepar’d,
If they seem pleas'd, and yet are mute, To be the conqueror's revard ;
The poem's good beyond dispute; Wih store of pinks and daisies in it,
But when they babble all the wbile, And many a songster try'd to win it,
Now praise the sense, and now the style, But all the judges soon confest
'Tis plain that something must be wrong, The swan superior to the rest,
This too weak or that too strong. He got the garland from the bride,
The art is wanting which conveys With honour and applause beside:
Impressions in mysterious ways, A tattling goose, with envy stung,
And makes us from a whole receive Although herself she ne'er had sung,
What no divided parts can give: Took this occasion to reveal
Fine writing, therefore, seems of course What swans seem studious to conceal,
Less fit to please at first than worse. And, skill'd in satire's artful ways,
A language fitted to the sense Invective introduc'd with praise.
Will hardly pass for eloquence. “ The swan," quoth she, “ upon my word, One feels its force, before he sees Deserves applause from ev'ry bird :
The charm which gives it pow'r to please, Bę proof his charming voice you know,
And ere instructed to admire, His feathers soft and white as snow;
Will read and read and never tire. and if you saw him when he swims
But when the style is of a kind Majestic on the silver streams,
Which soårs and leaves the sense behind, He'd seem complete in all respects :
"Tis something by itself, and draws Bat nothing is without defects;
From vulgar judges dull applause; For that is true, which few wou'd think,
They'll yawn, and tell you as you read, His legs and feet are black as ink"
“Those lines are mighty fine indeed;"