FABLE S.

Part the First.

TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS

WILLIAM, DUKE OF CUMBERLAND.

REMOTE from cities lived a Swain, Jnvex'd with all the cares of gain; His head was silver'd o'er with age, And long experience made him sage; In summer's heat and winter's cold He fed his flock and penn'd the fold:

His hours in cheerful labour flew,
Nor envy nor ambition knew:
His wisdom and his honest fame
Through all the country raised his name.1
A deep Philosopher (whose rules
Of moral life were drawn from schools)
The Shepherd's homely cottage sought,
And thus explored his reach of thought:
"Whence is thy learning? hath thy toil
O'er books consumed the midnight oil?
Hast thou old Greece and Rome survey'd,
And the vast sense of Plato weigh'd?
Hath Socrates thy soul refined,

And hast thou fathom'd Tully's mind?
Or, like the wise Ulysses, thrown,
By various fates, on realms unknown,
Hast thou through many cities stray'd,
Their customs, laws, and manners weigh'd?"
The Shepherd modestly replied,-
"I ne'er the paths of learning tried;
Nor have I roam'd in foreign parts
To read mankind, their laws and arts;
For man is practised in disguise,
He cheats the most discerning eyes:
Who by that search shall wiser grow,
When we OURSELVES can never know?2
The little knowledge I have gain'd,

Was all from simple Nature drain'd;

(1) The retirement of the country has ever formed a fertile theme of praise to poets, but it depends upon the disposition to derive good from it,

(2)

"Cœlum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt."-HOR.
"The noblest study of mankind is man."-POPE.

Yet Socrates himself confessed that, after all, so far was he from realizing the saying of Thales, "Know thyself," that "he only knew that he knew nothing." For rules of self-knowledge see Addison, Spectator, No. 399.

Hence my life's maxims took their rise,
Hence grew my settled hate to vice.

"The daily labours of the bee
Awake my soul to industry.
Who can observe the careful ant
And not provide for future want?1
My dog (the trustiest of his kind)
With gratitude inflames my mind:
I mark his true, his faithful way,
And in my service copy Tray.
In constancy and nuptial love,
I learn my duty from the dove.
The hen, who from the chilly air,
With pious wing, protects her care,
And every fowl that flies at large,
Instructs me in a parent's charge.2
"From Nature, too, I take my rule,
To shun contempt and ridicule.
I never, with important air,
In conversation overbear.
Can grave and formal pass
When men the solemn owl despise ?
My tongue within my lips I rein,

for wise,

For who talks much, must talk in vain.

We from the wordy torrent fly;

Who listens to the chattering pye?

Nor would I, with felonious sleight,

By stealth invade my neighbour's right.

Rapacious animals we hate:

Kites, hawks, and wolves, deserve their fate.

Do not we just abhorrence find

Against the toad and serpent kind?

(1) Vide Prov. v. 6.

(2) For the most beautiful application of this image, see Luke xiii. 34.