LXX. The WOLF, the SHEEP, and the LAMB.

UTY demands, the parent's voice

DS

Should fanctify the daughter's choice;

In that is due obedience shown;
To chufe belongs to her alone.

May horror feize his midnight hour,
Who builds upon a. parent's pow'r,
And claims, by purchase vile and base,
The loathing maid for his embrace:
Hence virtue fickens; and the breast,
Where Peace had built her downy neft,
Becomes the troubled feat of care,
And pines with anguish and defpair.
A Wolf, rapacious, rough, and bold,
Whofe nightly plunders thinn'd the fold,
Contemplating his ill-spent life,

And cloy'd with thefts would take a wife,
His purpose known, the favage race,
In num'rous crouds attend the place;
For why, a mighty Wolf he was,
And held dominion in his jaws.
Her fav'rite whelp each mother brought,
And humbly his alliance fought;
But cold by age, or else too nice,
None found acceptance in his eyes.
It happen'd as at early dawn,
He folitary crofs'd the lawn,

Stray'd from the fold, a fportive Lamb
Skip'd wanton by her fleecy Dam;
When Cupid, foe to man and beast,
Discharg'd an arrow at his breast.

The tim'rous breed the robber knew,
And trembling o'er the meadow flew;
Their nimbleft fpeed the Wolf o'ertook,
And courteous, thus the Dam befpoke:
Stay, faireft, and fufpend your fear,.
Truft me, no enemy is near ;
X 3

Thefe

Thefe jaws, in flaughter oft imbru'd,
At length have known enough of blood;
And kinder bus'nefs brings me now,
Vanquifh'd, at beauty's feet to bow.
You have a daughter-Sweet, forgive
A Wolf's addrefs.--In her I live;
Love from her eyes like light'ning came,
And fet my marrow all on flame;
Let your confent confirm my choice,
And ratify our nuptial joys.

Me ample wealth, and pow'r attend,
Wide o'er the plains my realms extend:
What midnight robber dare invade
The fold, if I the guard am made?
At home the fhepherd's cur may fleep,
While I fecure his mafter's fheep.
- Difcourfe like this, attention claim'd;
Grandeur the Mother's breaft inflam'd:
Now fearless by his fide fhe walk'd,
Of fettlements, and jointures talk'd;
Propos'd, and doubled her demands
Of flow'ry fields, and turnip-lands.
The Wolf agrees. Her bofom fwells;
To Mifs her happy fate fhe tells:
And of her grand alliance vain,
Contemns her kindred of the plain.

The loathing Lamb with horror hears,
And wearies out her Dam with pray'rs:
But all in vain; Mamma beft knew
What unexperienc'd girls fhould do.
So, to the neighbouring meadow carry'd,
A formal afs the couple marry'd.
Torn from the Tyrant-mother's fide,
The Trembler goes, a Victim-bride!
Reluctant meets the rude embrace,
And bleats among the howling race:
With horror oft her eyes behold
Her murder'd kindred of the fold;

Each

Each day a fifter-lamb is ferv'd,
And at the Glutton's table carv'd;
The crashing bones he grinds for food,
And flakes his thirst with ftreaming blood.
Love, who the cruel mind detefts,
And lodges but in gentle breasts,
Was now no more. Enjoyment past,
The Savage hunger'd for the feast:
But (as we find, in human race,
A mask conceals the Villain's face)
Juftice muft authorize the treat;
Till then he long'd, but durft not eat.
As forth he walk'd in queft of prey,
The hunters met him on the way;
Fear wings his flight; the marfh he fought;
The fnuffing dogs are fet at fault.
His ftomach balk'd, now hunger gnaws,
Howling he grinds his empty jaws;
Food must be had--and Lamb is nigh;
His maw invokes the fraudful lye.
Is this (diffembling rage, he cry'd)
The gentle virtue of a bride?

That, leagu'd with man's deftroying race,
She fets her husband for the chace?
By treach'ry prompts the noify hound
To fcent his footfteps on the ground?
Thou Trait'refs vile! for this thy blood
Shall glut my rage, and dye the wood!
So faying, on the Lamb he flies,
Beneath his jaws the Victim dies.

I

LXXI The Goose and the SWANS.

HATE the face, however fair,
That carries an affected air;

The lifping tone, the fhape conftrain'd,
The ftudy'd look, the paffion feign'd,

M.

Are

Are fopperies, which only tend
To injure what they ftrive to mend.
With what fuperior grace enchants
The face, which Nature's pencil paints!
Where eyes, unexercis'd in art,
Glow with the meaning of the heart?
Where freedom, and good-humour fit,
And eafy gaiety, and wit!

Tho' perfect beauty be not there,
The mafter lines, the finish'd air,
We catch from ev'ry look delight,
And grow enamour'd at the fight;
For beauty, tho' we all approve,
Excites our wonder more than love;
While the agreeable strikes fure,
And gives the wounds we cannot cure.
Why then, my Amoret, this care,
That forms you, in effect, less fair?
If Nature on your cheek beftows
A bloom, that emulates the rofe,
Or from fome heavenly image drew,
A form, Apelles never knew,

Your ill-judg'd aid will you impart,
And spoil by meretricious art?
Or had you, Nature's error, come
Abortive from the mother's womb,
Your forming care fhe ftill rejects,
Which only heightens her defects.
When fuch, of glitt'ring jewels proud,
Still prefs the formeft in the croud,
At ev'ry public fhew are feen,
With look awry, and aukward mein,
The gaudy drefs attracts the eye,
And magnifies deformity.

Nature may underdo her part,
But feldom wants the help of art;
Truft her, 'fhe is your furest friend,
Nor made your form for you to mend,

A

A Goofe, affected, empty, vain, The fhrilleft of the cackling train, With proud, and elevated creft, Precedence claim'd above the reft.

Says he, I laugh at human race,
Who fay, Geefe hobble in their pace;
Look here! the fland'rous lie detect;
Not haughty man is fo erect.

That peacock yonder! Lord, how vain
The creature's of his gaudy train!
If both were ftript, I'd pawn my word,
A Goofe would be the finer bird.
Nature, to hide her own defects,
Her bungled work with fin'ry decks;
Were Geefe fet off with half that fhew,
Would méh admire the peacock No.
Thus vaunting, cross the mead she stalks,
The cackling breed attend her walks;
The Sun fhot down his noon-tide beams,
The Swans were fporting in the ftreams;
Their fnowy plumes, and ftately pride
Provok'd her fpleen. Why there, the cry'd,
Again, what arrogance we fee !-

Thofe creatures! how they mimic me!
Shall ev'ry fowl the waters fkim,

Because we Geefe are known to fwim?
Humility they foon fhall learn,
And their own emptinefs difcern.

So faying, with extended wings,
Lightly upon the wave the fprings;
Her bofom fwells, fhe fpreads her plumes,
And the Swan's ftately creft affumes.
Contempt and mockery enfu'd,

And bursts of laughter fhook the flood.
A Swan, fuperior to the reft,

Sprung forth, and thus the fool addrefs'd:
Conceited thing, elate with pride!

Thy affectation all deride;

Thefe