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Jove wonder'd at his bold addressing :
For how precarious is the blessing !

A wife he takes. And now for heirs:
Again he worries heav'n with prayers.
Jove nods assent. Two hopeful boys
And a fine girl reward his joys.
Now, more solicitous he

And set their future lives in view :
He saw that all respect and duty
Were paid to wealth, to power, and beauty.

Once more, he cries, accept my prayer ,
Make my lov'd progeny thy care.
Let my first hope, my fav'rite boy,
All fortune's richest gifts enjoy.
My next with strong ambition fire:
May favour teach him to aspire ;
Till he the step of pow'r ascend,
And courtiers to their idol bend.
With ev'ry grace, with ev'ry charm,
My daughter's perfect features arm.
If Heav'n approve, a Father's bless’d,,
Jove smiles, and grants his full request.

The first, a miser at the heart,
Studious of ev'ry griping art,
Heaps hoards on hoards with anxious pain,
And all his life devotes to gain.
He feels no joy, his cares increase,
He neither wakes nor sleeps in peace ;

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In fancy'd want (a wretch compleat)
He starves, and yet he dares not eat.

The next to sudden honours grew;
The thriving art of courts he knew :
He reach'd the height of power and place ;
Then fell, the victim of disgrace.

Beauty with early bloom fupplies
His daughter's cheek, and points her eyes.
The vain coquette each fuit disdains,
And glories in her lover's pains.

age The fades, each lover flies, Contemn'd, forlorn, the pines and dies.

When Jove the Father's grief furvey'd,
And heard him Heav'n and Fate upbraid,
Thus spoke the God. By outward show,
Men judge of happiness and woe:
Shall ignorance of good and ill
Dare to direct th' eternal Will ?
Seek virtue ; and, of that poffeft,
To Providence resign the reft.


HE learned, full of inward pride,

The Fops of outward show deride;
The Fop, with learning at defiance,
Scoffs at the pedant, and the science :



The Don, a formal, folemn strutter,
Despises Monsieur's airs and flutter ;
While Monsieur mocks the formal fool,
Who looks, and speaks, and walks by rule.
Britain, a medley of the twain,
As pert as France, as grave as Spain ;
In fancy wiser than the rest,
Laughs at them both, of both the jeft.
Is not the poet's chiming close
Censur'd by all the fons of profe?
While bards of quick imagination
Despise the sleepy profe narration.
Men laugh at Apes, they men contemn;
For what are we, but Apes to them?

Two Monkeys went to Southwark fair,
No criticks had a sourer air:
They forc'd their way through draggled folks,
Who gap'd to catch Jack-pudding's jokes ;
Then took their tickets for the show,
And got by chance the foremost row.

To see their grave observing face, Provok'd a laugh through all the place.

Brother, says Pug, and turn'd his head,
The rabble's monstrously ill bred.

Now through the booth loud hisses ran ;
Nor ended till the show began.
The tumbler whirls the flip-flap round,
With sommersets he shakes the ground;


The cord beneath the dancer springs;
Aloft in air the vaulter swings;
Distorted now, now prone depends,
Now through his twisted arms afcends :
The crowd, in wonder and delight,
With clapping hands applaud the fight.

With smiles, quoth Pug ; If pranks like these
The giant Apes of reason please, :
How would they wonder at our arts !
They must adore us for our parts.
High on the twig I've seen you cling ;
Play, twist and turn in airy ring :
How can those clumsy things, like me,
Fly with a bound from tree to tree?
But yet, by this applause, we find
These emulators of our kind
Discern our worth, our parts regard,
Who our mean mimicks thus reward.

Brother, the grinning mate replies,
In this I grant that Man is wise.
While good example they pursue,
We must allow some praise is due :
But when they ftrain beyond their guide,
I laugh to fcorn the mimic pride.
For how fantastic is the fight,
To meet men always bolt upright,
Because we sometimes walk on two!
I hate the imitating crew.



The Owl and the FARMER.

Ah like the Turk)

was feldom seen,

N Owl of grave deport and mien,

Who (like the Turk) was feldom seen,
Within a barn had chose his station,
As fit for prey and contemplation.
Upon a beam aloft he fits,
And nods, and seems to think, by fits.
So have I feen a man of news,
Or Poft-boy, or Gazette peruse;
Smoke, nod, and talk with voice profound,
And fix the fate of Europe round.
Sheaves pild on fheaves 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 fpite.
Then too, how partial is his praise !
The lark's, the linet's chirping lays
To his ill-judging ears are fines
And nightingales are all divine.
But the more knowing feather'd race
See wisdom stamp'd upon my face.


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