THE COOKMAID, TURNSPIT, AND OX.
CONSIDER man in every sphere,
Then tell me, is your lot severe ?
"Tis murmur, discontent, distrust,
That makes you wretched. God is just.
I grant that hunger must be fed,
That toil, too, earns thy daily bread.
What then? Thy wants are seen and known,
But every mortal feels his own.
We're born a restless needy crew:
Show me the happier man than you.
Adam, though blest above his kind,
For want of social woman pin'd.
Eve's wants the subtle serpent saw,
Her fickle taste transgress'd the law:
Thus fell our sire, and their disgrace
The curse entail'd on human race.
When Philip's son, by glory led,
Had o'er the globe his empire spread;
When altars to his name were dress'd,
That he was man his tears confess'd.
The hopes of avarice are check'd:
The proud man always wants respect.
Consider, friends, no hour rolls on But something of your grief is gone. Were you to schemes of business bred, Did you the paths of learning tread, Your hours, your days, would fly too fast; You'd then regret the minute past. Time's fugitive and light as wind; 'Tis indolence that clogs your mind: That load from off your spirits shake, You'll own, and grieve for your mistake. A while your thoughtless spleen suspend, Then read, and (if you can) attend.
As Plutus, to divert his care,
Walk'd forth one morn to take the air,
Cupid o'ertook his strutting pace.
Each star'd upon the stranger's face,
Till recollection set 'em right,
For each knew t' other but by sight.
After some complimental talk,
Time met 'em, bow'd, and join'd their walk:
Their chat on various subjects ran,
But most, what each had done for man.
Plutus assumes a haughty air,
Just like our purse-proud fellows here:
'Let kings, (says he) let cobblers tell,
Whose gifts among mankind excel.
Consider courts; what draws their train?
Think you 'tis loyalty or gain?
That statesman hath the strongest hold,
Whose tool of politics is gold;
By that, in former reigns, 'tis said,
The knave in power hath senates led:
By that alone he sway'd debates,
Enrich'd himself, and beggar'd states.
Forego your boast. You must conclude
That's most esteem'd that's most pursued.
Think, too, in what a woful plight
That wretch must live whose pocket's light.
Are not his hours by want deprest?
Penurious care corrodes his breast:
Without respect, or love, or friends,
His solitary day descends.
"You might, (says Cupid) doubt my parts, My knowledge, too, in human hearts, Should I the power of gold dispute, Which great examples might confute. I know when nothing else prevails, Persuasive money seldom fails; That beauty, too, (like other wares) Its price, as well as conscience, bears. Then marriage (as of late profest) Is but a money-job at best. Consent, compliance may be sold; But love's beyond the price of gold. Smugglers there are who, by retail, Expose what they call Love to sale; Such bargains are an arrant cheat: You purchase flattery and deceit. Those who true love have ever tried, (The common cares of life supplied)
What various wants on power attend?
Ambition never gains its end.
Who hath not heard the rich complain
Of surfeits and corporeal pain?
He, barr'd from every use of wealth,
Envies the ploughman's strength and health.
Another, in a beauteous wife
Finds all the miseries of life:
Domestic jars and jealous fear
Imbitter all his days with care.
This wants an heir; the line is lost :
Why was that vain entail engrost?
Canst thou discern another's mind?
What is 't you envy? Envy's blind.
Tell Envy, when she would annoy,
That thousands want what you enjoy.
'The dinner must be dish'd at one.
Where's this vexatious Turnspit gone ?
Unless the skulking Cur is caught,
The sirloin's spoil'd, and I'm in fault.'
Thus said, (for sure you'll think it fit
That I the Cookmaid's oaths omit)
With all the fury of a cook,
Her cooler kitchen Nan forsook :
The broomstick o'er her head she waves:
She sweats, she stamps, she puffs, she raves:
The sneaking Cur before her flies;
She whistles, calls; fair speech she tries.
These nought avail. Her choler burns;
The fist and cudgel threat by turns:
With hasty stride she presses near;
He slinks aloof, and howls with fear.
'Was ever Cur so curs'd! (he cried)
What star did at my birth preside!
Am I for life by compact bound
To tread the wheel's eternal round?
Inglorious task! of all our race
No slave is half so mean and base.
Had fate a kinder lot assign'd,
And form'd me of the lap-dog kind,
I then, in higher life employ'd,
Had indolence and ease enjoy'd;
And, like a gentleman, carest,
Had been the lady's favourite guest:
Or were I sprung from spaniel line,
Was his sagacious nostril mine,
By me, their never-erring guide,
From wood and plain their feasts supplied,
Knights, squires, attendant on my pace,
Had shar'd the pleasures of the chase.
Endued with native strength and fire,
Why call'd I not the lion sire?
A lion! such mean views I scorn:
Why was I not of woman born?
Who dares with reason's power contend?
On man we brutal slaves depend :
To him all creatures tribute pay,
And luxury employs his day.'
An Ox by chance o'erheard his moan,
And thus rebuk'd the lazy drone :
|