The fox fubmitted, if to touch
A gofling would be deem'd too much.
The monkey thought his grin and chatter,
Might ask a nut or fome fuch matter.
Ye hirelings, (hence the Leopard cries ;)-
Your venal confcience I defpife.
He who the public good intends,
By bribes need never purchase friends.
Who acts this juft, this open part,
Is propt by ev'ry honeft heart.
Corruption now too late hath fhow'd,
That bribes are always ill-beftow'd,
By you your bubbled mafter's taught,
Time-ferving tools, not friends, are bought
REVEREND DR. SWIFT, DEAN
OF ST. PATRICK'S.
HOUGH courts the practice disallow,
A friend at all times I'll avow.
In politics I know 'tis wrong:
A friendship may be kept too long;
And that they call the prudent part,
Is to wear int'reft next the heart,
As the times take a different face,
Old friendships fhould to new give place.
I know too you have many foes,
That owning you is fharing thofe ;
That ev'ry knave in ev'ry ftation,
Of high and low denomination,
For what you fpeak, and what you write,
Dread you at once, and bear you spite.
Such freedoms in your works are shown
They can't enjoy what's not their own,
All dunces too in church and state
In frothy nonfenfe fhew their hate;
With all the petty scribbling crew,
(And those pert fots are not a few,)
'Gainst you and POPE their envy spurt,
The bookfellers alone are hurt.
Good gods! by what a powerful race
(For blockheads may have pow'r and place)
Are fcandals rais'd and libels writ !
To prove your honefty and wit!
Think with yourself: Those worthy men,
You know, have suffer'd by your pen.
From them you've nothing but your due.
From thence, 'tis plain your friends are few.
Except myself, I know of none,
Befides the wife and good alone.
To fet the cafe in fairer light,
My fable fhall the rest recite;
Which (tho' unlike our prefent ftate)
I for the moral's fake relate.
A Bee of cunning, not of parts,
Luxurious, negligent of arts,
Rapacious, arrogant, and vain,
Greedy of pow'r, but more of gain,
Corruption fow'd throughout the hive,
By petty rogues the great ones thrive.
As pow'r and wealth his views fupply'd,
'Twas feen in over-bearing pride.
With him loud impudence had merit;
The Bee of confcience wanted spirit ;
And those who follow'd honour's rules,
Were laugh'd to fcorn for fqueamish fools,
Wealth claim'd distinction, favour, grace ;
And poverty alone was base.
He treated industry with flight,
Unless he found his profit by't.
Rights, laws, and liberties gave way,
To bring his selfish schemes in play.
The fwarm forgot the common toil,
To fhare the gleanings of his fpoil.
While vulgar fouls, of narrow parts,
Wafte life in low mechanic arts,
Let us (fays he) to genius born,
The drudg'ry of our fathers fcorn.
The wafp and drone, you must agree,
Live with more elegance than we.
Like gentlemen they sport and play:
No bus'nefs interrupts the day:
Their hours to luxury they give,
And nobly on their neighbours live.
A ftubborn Bee, among the swarm,
With honeft indignation warm,
Thus from his cell with zeal reply'd.
I flight thy frowns and hate thy pride.
The laws our native rights protect.
Offending thee, I thofe refpect.
Shall luxury corrupt the hive,
And none against the torrent strive ?-
Exert the honour of your race;
He builds his rife on your difgrace.
'Tis induftry our state maintains:
'Twas honeft toils and honest gains
That rais'd our fires to pow'r and fame.
Be virtuous; fave yourselves from fhame.
Know, that in felfish ends pursuing,
You fcramble for the public ruin.
He fpoke; and from his cell dismiss'd,
Was infolently fcoff'd and hifs'd.
With him a fiend or two refign'd,
Difdaining the degen'rate kind.
Thefe drones (fays he) these insects vile, (I treat them in their proper style}
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