FABLE VI.

Be complaifant, obliging, kind,

The wolf, whofe mouth began to water, With joy and rapture gallop'd after,

SQUALID

A wretched Lazar lay distress'd;
Afwarm of flies his bleeding ulcers tore,
And on his putrid carcass feast.

A courteous traveller, who pafs'd that way,
And faw the vile Harpeian brood,

Offer'd his help the monstrous crew to slay,
That rioted on human blood.

Ah! gentle Sir, th' unhappy wretch reply'd,
Your well-meant charity refrain;

The angry Gods have that redress deny'd,
Your goodness would increase my pain.
Fat, and full-fed, and with abundance cloy'd,
But now and then these tyrants feed;
But were, alas this pamper'd brood destroy'd,
The lean and hungry would fuccced.

MORAL.

The body politic must foon decay,
When fwarms of infects on its vitals prey;
When blood-fuckers of ftate, a greedy brood,
Feaft on our wounds, and fatten with our blood.
What must we do in this fevere distress?
Come, doctor, give the patient fome redress:
The quacks in politicks a change advise,
But cooler counfels fhould direct the wife.
'Tis hard indeed; but better this, than worfe;
Miftaken bleffings prove the greatest curse.
Alas! what would our bleeding country gain,
lf, when this viperous brood at last is flain,
The teeming Hydra pollulates again;
Seizes the prey with more voracious bite,
To fatisfy his hungry appetite?

THE WOLF AND THE DOG.

"Hunc ego per Syrtes, Libyæque extrema triumphum

"Ducere maluerim, quam ter capitolia curru "Scandere Pompeii, quam frangere colla Jugurtha'

A Prowling wolf that fcour'd the plains,

To cafe his hunger's griping pains;
Ragged as courtier in difgrace,
Hide-bound, and lean, and out of cafe;
By chance a well-fed dog efpy'd,
And being kin, and near ally'd,
He civilly falutes the cur,
How do you, cuz? Your fervant, fir!
O happy friend! how gay thy mien !
How plump thy fides, how fleck thy fkia!
Triumphant plenty hides all o'er,
And the fat melts at every pore!
While I, alas! decay'd and old,
With hunger pin'd, and stiff with cold,
With many a howl, and hideous groan,
Tell the relentless woods my moan.
Pr'ythee, my happy friend impart
Thy wondrous, cunning, thriving art.
Why, faith, I'll tell thee as a friend,
But first thy furly manners mend;

Luc.

I fhare the plenty of my lord;
From every guest I claim a fee,
Who court my lord by bribing me:
In mirth I revel all the day,
And many a game at romps I play :
I fetch and carry, leap o'er fticks,
And twenty fuch diverting tricks.
'Tis pretty, faith, the wolf reply'd,
And on his neck the collar spy'd:
He starts, and without more ado
He bids the abject wretch adieu:
Enjoy your dainties, friend; to me
The nobleft feaft is liberty.

The famish'd wolf upon these desart plains,
Is happier than a fawning cur in chains.

MORAL.

Thus bravely spoke the nurse of ancient Rome,
Thus the ftarv d Swiss, and hungry Grifons roam
On barren hills, clad with eternal fnow,
And look with fcorn on the prim slaves below.
Thus Cato fcap'd by death the tyrant's chains,
And walks unshackled in th' Elyfian plains.
Thus, Britons, thus, your great forefathers stood
For liberty, and fought in feas of blood.
To barren rocks, and gloomy woods confin'd,
Their virtues by neceflity refin'd,

Nor cold, nor want, nor death, could fhake their fteady mind.

No faucy Druid then durft cry aloud,
And with his flavifh cant debauch the crowd:
No paffive legions in a fcoundrel's caufe
Pillage a city, and affront the laws.
The ftate was quiet, happy, and serene,
For Boadicea was the Briton's queen;
Her fubjects their just liberties maintain❜d,
And in her peoples' hearts the happy monarch
reign'd.

FABLE VIII.

THE OYSTER.

66

- In jus

"Acres procurrunt, magnum fpectaculum uterque."

TWO comradhat chapter, page, or line.

WO comrades, as grave authors say,

Ye criticks, if ye please, define) Had found an cyfter in their way. Contest and foul debate arofe,

Both view'd at once with greedy eyes,
Both challeng'd the delicious prize,
And high words foon improv'd to blows.
Actions on actions hence fucceed,

Fach hero's obftinately ftout,
Green bags and parchments fly about,
Pleadings are drawn, and countel fee'd
The parfon of the place, good man!
Whofe kind and charitable heart
In human ills ftill bore a part,
Thrice hook his head, and thus began.

Neighboure

FABLE X.

THE FROG'S CHOICE.

Na wild ftate of nature, lung
The frogs at randorn liv'd,

The weak a prey unto the ftrong.
With anarchy opprefs'd and griev'd.

At length the lawless rout,

Taught by their fufferings, grew devout:
An embaffy to Jove they fent,
And begg'd his highnefs would bestow
Some fettled form of government,
A king to rule the fens below.
Jove, fmiling, grants their odd request,
A king th' indulgent power bestow`d,
(Such as might fuit their genius beft)
A beam of a prodigious size,

With all its cumbrous load,
Came tumbling from the skies.
The waters dath against the fhore,
The hollow caverns roar;

The rocks return the dreadful found,
Convaltions fake the ground.

The multitude with horror fled.
And in his oozy bed
Each skulking coward hid his head.
When all is now grown calm again,
And smoothly glides the liquid plain,
A frog more refolute and bold.
Peeping with caution from his hold;
Recover'd from his first furprize,
As o'er the wave his head he popt,
He faw-but scarce believ'd his eyes,
On the fame bank whore first he dropt,
Th'imperial lubber lies,

Stretch'd at his ease, careless, content:
Is this the monarch Jove has fent,
(Said he) our warlike troops to lead?
Ay! 'tis a glorious prince indeed!
By fuch an active general led,

The routed mice our arms fhall dread,
Subdued fhall quit their claim:
Old Homer fhall recant his lays,

For us new trophies raife,

Sing our victorious arms, and justify our fame.
Then laughing impudently loud,

He foon alarm'd the daftard crowd.
The croaking nations with contempt
Behold the worthlefs indolent,

On wings of winds, swift scandal flies,
Libels, lampoons, and lies,

Hoarfe treafons, tunelefs blafphemies.

With active leap at laft upon his back they ftride,
And on the royal loggerhead in triumph ride.

Once more to Jove their prayers addrest,
And once more Jove grants their request :
A ftork he fends of monftrous fize,
Red lightning flashing in his eyes;
Rul'd by no block, as heretofore,

The gazing crowds prefs'd to his court;
Admire his fiately mien, his haughty port,
And only not adore.
Addreffes of congratulation,
Sent from each loyal corporation,

Full-freight with truth and sense,
Exhaufted all their eloquence.

But now, alas! 'twas night; kings must have meats
The Grand Vizier first goes to the pot,
Three Baffas next, happy their lot!

Gain'd Paradife by being eat

And this, faid he, and this is mine,
And this, by right divine :
In short, 'twas all for public weal,
He fwallow'd half a nation at a meal.
Again they beg Almighty Jove,
This cruel tyrant to remove.
With fierce refentment in his eyes,
The frowning Thunderer replies;
Thofe evils which yourselves create,
Rafh fools! ye now repent too la e;
Made wretched by the public voice,
Not through neceflity, but choice.

Be gone!-Nor wreft from Heaven fome heavier cu:fe,

Better bear this, this ftork, than worse.

A

Dos eft uxoria, lites."

SPARROW and his mate

(Believe me, gentle Kate)
Once lov'd like I and you;
With mutual ardour join`d,
No turtles e'er fo kind,

to conftant, and fo true.
They hopp'd from sprav to fpray,
They bill'd, they chirp'd all day,
They cuddled close all night;
To blits they wak'd each morn,
In every bush and thorn,

Gay fcenes of new delight.
At length the fowler came,
(The knave was much to blame)
And this dear pair trepann'd:
Both in one cage conan'd,

Why, faith and troth, 'twas kind;
Nay, hold-that must be scann'd.

Fair liberty thus gone,

And one coop'd up with one,

'Twas aukward, new, and frange;

For better and for worse,

O difmal, fatal curfe!

No more abroad to range.

No carols now they fing,

Each droops its little wing,
And mourns its cruel fate :
Clouds on each brow appear,
My honey, and my dear,

Is now quite out of date.
They pine, lament, and moan,'
'Twould melt an heart of flone,
To hear their fad complaint:
Nor he fapply'd her wants,
Nor the refrain'd from taunts,
That might provoke a faint.

Hard words improve to blows,
For now, grown mortal foes,

They pece, they fcratch, they fcream:

The cage lies on the floor,

The wires are ftain'd with gore,

It fwells into a ftream.

Dear Kitty, would you know
The caufe of all this woc,
It is not hard to guefs;
Whatever does constrain,
Turns pleasure into pain,

'Tis choice alone can bless. When both no more are free, Ilipid I must be,

VOL.

Tw

TER.

WO fifter springs, from the fame parent hill, Born on the fame propitious day, Through the cleft rock diftil: Adown the reverend mountain's fide,

Through groves of myrtle glide,

Or through the violet beds obliquely ftray.
The laurel, each proud victor's crown,
From them receives her high renown,

From them the curling vine
Her clufters big with racy wine,
To them her oil the peaceful olive owes,
And her vermilion blufh the rofe.

The gracious ftreams in fmooth meanders flow,
To every thirsty root dispense

Their kindly cooling influence,

And Paradife adorns the mountain's brow. But oh! the fad effect of pride! Thefe happy twins at laft divide "Sifter (exclaims th' ambitious spring) "What profit do these labours bring? Always to give, and never to enjoy, "A fruitlefs and a mean employ ! "Stay here inglorious if you pleafe, "And loiter out a life of indolence and ease: "Go, humble drudge, each thistle rear, "And nurfe each thrub, your daily care, "While, pouring down from this my lofty fource, "I deluge all the plain, "No dams fhall flop my course, "And rocks oppofe in vain.

"See where my foaming billows flow,

"Above the hills my waves afpire,

"The shepherds and their flocks retire,

"And tallest cedars as they pafs in fign of homage

All hands unite, with dams they bound

The rash rebellious ftream around;

In vain the foams, in vain fhe raves,
In vain the curls her feeble waves,
Befieg'd at laft on every fide,

Her fource exhaufted and her channel dry'd,
(Such is the fate of impotence and pride!)
A fhallow pond fhe ftands confin'd,
The refuge of the croaking kind.
Rushes and fags, an inbred foe,
Choa up the muddy pool below;
The tyrant fun on high

Exacts his ufual fubfidy;

And the poor pittance that remains,

Each gaping cranny drains.

Too late the fool repents her haughty boaft,
A nameless nothing, in oblivion loft.
Her fifter fpring, benevolent and kind,

With joy fees all around her bleft,
The good she does, into her generous mind
Returns again with intereft
The farmer oft invokes her aid
When Sirius nips the tender blade;
Her ftreams a fure elixir bring,

Gay plenty decks the fields, and a perpetual fpring.
Wheree'er the gardener smooths her eafy way,
Her ductile ftreams obey.
Courteous fhe vifits every bed,
Narciffus rears his drooping head,
By her diffufive bounty fed.
Reviv'd from her indulgent urn,
Sad Hyacinth forgets to mouru,
Rich in the bleffings fhe bestows,
All nature fmiles wheree'er the flows.
Enamour'd with a nymph fo fair,
See where the river Gods appear.
A nymph fo eminently good,
The joy of all the neighbourhood;
They clafp her in their liquid armis,
And riots in th' abundance of her charms.
Like old pheus fond, their wanton ftreams they
join'd,

Like Arethufa fhe, as loving, and as kind.
Now fwell'd into a mighty flood,

Her channel deep and wide,

Still the perfifts in doing good,
Her bounty flows with every tide.
A thousand rivulets in her train
With fertile waves enrich the plain :
The fealy herd, a numerous throng,'
Beneath her filver billows glide along,

Whofe ftill increafing fhoals fupply
The poor man's wants, the great one's luxury :
Here all the feather'd troops retreat,
Securely ply their oary feet,

Upon her floating herbage gaze,

And with their tuneful notes refound her praise."
Herc flocks and herds in fafety feed,
And fatten in each flowery mead:

No beafts of prey appear The watchful fhepherd to beguile, No monsters of the deep inhabit here, Nor the voracious shark, nor wily crocodile; But Delia and her nymphs, chafte fylvan queen,) By mortals prying eyes unseen,

Bathe in her flood, and ipert upon her borden

green.

Here merchants, careful of their store,
By angry billows toft.
Anchor fecure beneath her shore,

And bless the friendly coast.
Soon mighty fleets in all their pride
Triumphant on her furface ride:
The bufy trader on her banks appears,
An hundred different tongues the hears.
At laft, with wonder and furprize,
She fees a stately city rife;

With joy the happy flood admires
The lofty domes, the pointed fpires;
The porticos, magnificently great,

Where all the crowding nations meet; The bridges that adorn her brow, From bank to bank their ample arches Itride, Through which her curling waves in triumphgli And in melodious murmurs flow. Now grown a port of high renown, The treasure of the world her own, Both Indies with their precious stores, Pay yearly tribute to her fhores. Honour'd by all, a rich, well-peopled ftream, Nor father Thames himself of more efteem.

MORAL.

The power of kings (if rightly understood)
Is but a grant from heaven of doing good;
Proud tyrants, who maliciously destroy,
And ride o'er ruins with malignant joy;
Hun bled in duft. foon to their coft fhall know
Heaven our avenger, and mankind their foe;
While gracious monarchs reap the good they fow
Bleffing, areblefs'd; farfpreads their juftrenow
Confenting nations their dominion own,
And joyful happy crowds fupport their throne.
In vain the powers of earth and hell combine,
Each guardian angel fhall prot‹ & that line,
ho by their virtues prove their right divine.

THE BALD BATCHELOR : Being a Paraphrafe upon the Second Fable int

Second Book of Phædrus.

"Frigidus in Venerem fenior, fruftraque labore "Ingratum trahit : & fi quando at prælia ver eit,

Ut quondam in ftipulis magnus fine viribus iga Incaffum furit. Ergo animos ævumque nota 'Præcipuè."VIRG. Georg. lib. in. A BATCHELOR, who, paft his prime,

Had been a good one in his time, Had fcour'd the streets, had whor'd, got drank, Had fought his man, and kept his punk: Was fometimes rich, but oftener poor, With early duns about his door;

Being a little off his mettle,

Thought it convenient now to fettle:
Grew wondrous wife at forty-five,
Refolving to be grave, and thrive.
By chance he caft his roguish eye
Upon a dame who liv'd hard by ;
Awidow debonair and gay,
Odober in the dress of May;
Artful to lay both red and white,
Skill'd in repairs, and even in fpight
Of time and wrinkles, kept all tight.
But he, whofe heart was apt to rove,
An arrant wanderer in love;

Befides this widow, had Mifs Kitty,
Juicy and young, exceeding witty:
On her he thought, ferious or gay,
His dream by night, his toast by day;
He thought, but not on her alone,
For who would be confin'd to one?
Between them both ftrange work he made;
Gave this a ball or masquerade;
With that at serious ombre play'd:
The felf-fame compliments he spoke,
The felf-fame oaths he fwore, he broke ;
Alternately on each bestows

Frail promifes and short-liv'd vows.
Variety! kind fource of joy,
Without whofe aid all pleafures cloy;
Without thee, who would ever prove
The painful drudgeries of love?
Without thee, what indulgent wight
Would read what we in garrets write?
But not to make my tale perplex'd,
And keep more closely to my text;
'Tis fit the courteous reader know
This middle-aged man had been a beau,
But, above all, his head of hair
Had been his great peculiar care;
To which his ferious hours he lent,
Nor deem'd the precious time mifpent.
'Twas long, and curling, and jet black,
Hung to the middle of his back;
Black, did I fay? Ay once 'twas fo,
But cruel time had fmok'd the beau,
And powder'd o'er his head with fnow.
As an old horfe that had been hard rid,
Or from his master's coach difcarded,
Forc'd in a tumbril to go filler,
Or load for fome poor rogue a miller;
On his grave noddle, o'er his eyes,
Black hair and white promifcuous rife ;
Which chequer o'er his reverend pate,
And prove the keffel more fedate:
So with this worthy fquire it far'd,
Yet he nor time nor labour fpar'd,
But, with exceffive coft and pains,
Still made the best of his remains.
Each night beneath his cap he furl'd it,
Each morn in modifh ringlets curl'd it;
Now made his comely treffes fhine,
With orange-butter, jeffamine:
Then with fweet powder and perfumes
He purify'd his upper rooms.
So when a jockey brings a mare,
Or horfe, or gelding, to a fair,

Though he be fpavin'd, old, and blind,
With founder'd feet, and broken wind;
Yet, if he's mafter of his trade,
He'll curry well, and trim the jade,
To make the cheat go glibly down,
And bubble fome unwary clown.

What woman made of flesh and blood,
So fweet a gallant c'er withstood?
They melt, they yield, both, both are fmitten,
The good old pufs, and the young kitten;
And, being now familiar grown.
Each look'd upon him as her own;
No longer talk'd of dear, or honey,
But of plain downright matrimony.
At that dread word his worship started,
And was (we may fuppofe, faint hearted;
Yet, being refolv'd to change his ftate,
Winks both his eyes, and trufts to fate.
But now new doubts and fcruples rife,
To plague him with perplexities;
He knew not which, alas! to chufe,
This he must take, and that refufe.
As when fome idle country lad
Swings on a gate, his wooden pad;
To right, to left, he fpurs away,
But neither here nor there can stay;
Till, by the catch furpriz'd, the out
His journey ends, where he fet out:
Even fo this dubious lover ftray'd,
Between the widow and the maid;
And, after swinging to and fro,
Was juft in equilibrio.

Yet ftill a lover's warmth he shows,
And makes his vifits and his bows;
Domestic grown, both here and there,
Nor Pug, nor Shock, were half fo dear;
With bread and butter, and with tea,
And madam's toilet, who but he?
There fix'd a patch, or broke a comb;
At night, the widow's drawing-100m.
O fweet viciffitude of love!

Who would covet heaven above.
Were men bet thus allow'd to rove?
Put, alas! fome curs'd, event,
Some unexpected accident,
Hambles our pride, and fhews the odds.
Between frail mortals and the gods &
This by the fequel will appear

A truth moft evident and clear.
As on the widow's panting breast
He laid his peaceful head to re,
Dreaming of pleasures yet in flore,
nd joys he ne'er had felt before;
His grizly locks appear difplay'd,
In all their pomp of light and fhade.
Alas! my future fpoufe, faid fhe,
What do mine eyes aftonifh'd fee?
Marriage demands equality.
What will malicious neighbours fay,
Should I, a widow young and gay,
Marry a man both old and grey?
Thofe hideous hairs with that a tear
Did in each cryftai fluice appear;
She fetch'd a deep fign from her heart,
As who fhould lay, B. friends must part!

Then