He shakes his bag, he shews all fair;
His fingers spread, and nothing there;
Then bids it rain with show'rs of gold,
And now his iv'ry eggs are told.
But, when from thence the hen he draws,
Amaz'd spectators hum applause.
Vice now stept forth, and took the place
With all the forms of his grimace.
This magick looking-glass, she cries,
(There, hand it round) will charm your eyes.
Each eager eye the sight desir'd,
And ev'ry man himself admir'd.
Next, to a senator addressing :
See this bank-note; observe the blessing.
Breathe on the bill. Heigh, pass! 'Tis gone.
Upon his lips a padlock shown:
A second puff the magick broke ;
The padlock vanish'd and he spoke.
Twelve bottles rang'd upon the board,
All full, with heady liquor stor❜d,
By clean conveyance disappear,
And now two bloody swords are there.
A purse she to a thief expos'd;
At once his ready fingers clos'd:
his fist, the treasure's fled;
He sees a halter in its stead.
She bids ambition hold a wand;
He grasps a hatchet in his hand.
A box of charity she shows;
Blow here; and a church-warden blows.
'Tis vanish'd with conveyance neat,
And on the table smokes a treat.
She shakes the dice, the board she knocks,
And from all pockets fills her box.
She next a meagre rake addrest:
This picture see; her shape, her breast;
What youth, and what inviting eyes!
Hold her, and have her. With surprise,
His hand expos'd a box of pills,
And a loud laugh proclaim'd his ills.
A counter, in a miser's hand,
Grew twenty guineas at command:
She bids his heir the sum retain,
And 'tis a counter now again.
A guinea with her tỏuch you seẻ
Take ev'ry shape but charity;
And not one thing you saw, or drew,
But chang'd from what was first in view.
The juggler, now in grief of heart,
With this submission own'd her art.
Can I such matchless slight withstand ?
How practice hath improv'd your hand!
But now and then I cheat the throng,
You ev'ry day, and all day long.
THE COUNCIL OF HORSES.
Uron a time a neighing steed,
Who graz'd among a numʼrous breed,
With mutiny had fir'd the train,
And spread dissention through the plain.
C⚫ matters that concern'd the state
The council met in grand debate.
A colt, whose eye-balls flam'd with ire,
Elate with strength and youthful fire,
In haste stept forth before the rèst,
And thus the list'ning throng addrest :
Good gods! how abject is our race,
Condemn'd to slav'ry and disgrace!
Shall we our servitude retain,
Because our sires have borne the chain ?
Consider, friends, your strength and might:
'Tis conquest to assert your right.
How cumb'rous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we design'd for daily toil,
To drag the plough-share through the soil?
To sweat in harness through the road,
To groan beneath the carrier's load ?
How feeble are the two legg'd kind!
What force is in our nerves combin'd!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit
To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it heav'ns! Reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy disdain.
Let him the lion first controul,
And still the tyger's famish'd growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.
A gen'ral nod approv'd the cause,
And all the circle neigh'd applause.
When, lo! with grave and solemn pace,
A steed advanc'd before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,
And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain :
When I had health and strength like you,
The toils of servitude I knew.
Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
At will I crop the year's increase;
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains:
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise
To fence us from inclement skies!
For as he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter's hay.
He sows, he reaps the harvest's gaîn ;
We share the toil and share the grain.
Since ev'ry creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by heav'n assign'd.
The tumult ceas'd. The colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.
THE HOUND AND THE HUNTSMAN.
IMPERTINENCE at first is borne
With heedless slight, or smiles of scorn;
Teaz'd into wrath, what patience bears
The noisy fool who perseveres?
The morning wakes, the huntsman sounds.
At once rush forth the joyful hounds.
They seek the wood with eager pace,
Thro' bush, thro' bri'r, explore the chace.
Now scatter'd wide they try the plain,
And snuff the dewy turf in vain.
What care, what industry, what pains!
What universal silence reigns!
Ringwood, a dog of little fame,
Young, pert, and ignorant of game,
At once displays his babbling throat;
The pack, regardless of the note,
Pursue the scent; with louder strain
He still persists to vex the train.
The huntsman to the clamour flies;
The smacking lash he smartly plies;
His ribs all welk'd, with howling tone
The puppy thus express'd his moan;
I know the musick of my tongue
Long since the pack with envy stung.
What will not spite? These bitter smarts
I owe to my superior parts.
When puppies prate, the huntsman cried,
They show both ignorance and pride :
Fools may our scorn, not envy raise,
For envy is a kind of praise...
Had not thy forward noisy tongue
Proclaim'd thee always in the wrong
Thou might'st have mingled with the rest,
And ne'er thy foolish nose confest.
But fools, to talking ever prone,
Are sure to make their follies known.
THE POET AND THE ROSE.
I HATE the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.
Thus prudes, by characters o'erthrown,
Imagine that they raise their own,
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