Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

Smoke, nod, and talk with voice profound,
And fix the fate of Europe round.
Sheaves pil'd on sheaves hid all the floor.
At dawn of morn to view his store,
The Farmer came. The hooting guest
His self-importance thus exprest:-
Reason in man is mere pretence;
How weak, how shallow is his sense!
To treat with scorn the bird of night,
Declares his folly, or his spite.
Then, too, how partial is his praise!
The lark's, the linnet's chirping lays
To his ill-judging ears are fine,
And nightingales are all divine.
But the more knowing feather'd race
See wisdom stamp'd upon my face!
Whene'er to visit light I deign,
What flocks of fowl compose my train:
Like slaves, they crowd my flight behind,
And own me of superior kind.

The Farmer laugh'd, and thus reply'd:
Thou dull important lump of pride!
Dar'st thou, with that harsh grating tongue,
Depreciate birds of warbling song?
Indulge thy spleen. Know, men and fowl
Regard thee as thou art, an Owl.
Besides, proud blockhead, be not vain
Of what thou call'st thy slaves and train.
Few follow Wisdom, or her rules;
Fools, in derision, follow fools.

FABLE XLII.

The Jugglers.

A JUGGLER long thro' all the town Had rais'd his fortune and renown; You'd think (so far as art transcends) The Devil at his fingers' ends.

Vice heard his fame-she read his bill; Convinc'd of his inferior skill,

She sought his booth, and from the crowd Defy'd the man of art aloud.

Is this then he so fam'd for slight? Can this slow bungler cheat your sight? Dares he with me dispute the prize? I leave it to impartial eyes.

Provok'd, the Juggler cry'd, 'Tis done: In science I submit to none.

Thus said, the cups and balls he play'd; By turns, this here, that there, convey'd. The cards, obedient to his words, Are, by a fillip, turn'd to birds. His little boxes change the grainTrick after trick deludes the train. He shakes his bag, he shews all fair; His fingers spread, and nothing there; Then bids it rain with showers 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 stepp'd forth, and took the place With all the forms of his grimace.

This magic 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 shone.
A second puff the magic 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.
He opes his fist, the treasure's fled;
He sees the halter in its stead.

She bids Ambition hold a wand-
He grasps a hatchet in his hand.
A box of charity she shews.

Blow here! and a churchwarden 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 touch, you see 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 his 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.

FABLE XLIII.

The Council of Horses.

UPON a time a neighing steed, Who graz'd among a num'rous breed, With mutiny had fir'd the train, And spread dissension through the plain. On 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 stepp'd forth before the rest, 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 ploughshare 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 famish'd tiger's 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 thougtful eyes,
And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain :-

« ПредишнаНапред »