THE MOTHER, THE NURSE, AND THE FAIRY.
"GIVE me a son !"-The blessing sent,
Were ever parents more content?
How partial are their doting eyes!
No child is half so fair and wise.

Waked to the morning's pleasing care,
The Mother rose, and sought her heir:
She saw the Nurse like one possess'd,
With wringing hands and sobbing breast.
"Sure some disaster has befell:

Speak, Nurse; I hope the boy is well."

"Dear Madam, think not me to blame; Invisible the Fairy came;

Your precious babe is hence convey'd,

And in the place a changeling laid.

Where are the father's mouth and nose,
The mother's eyes, as black as sloes?
See, here, a shocking awkward creature,
That speaks a fool in every feature."

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"The woman's blind," the Mother cries; 'I see wit sparkle in his eyes."

"Lord, Madam, what a squinting leer! No doubt the Fairy hath been here." Just as she spoke, a pigmy sprite Pops though the keyhole swift as light; Perch'd on the cradle's top she stands, And thus her folly reprimands:

"Whence sprung the vain conceited lie, That we the world with fools supply? What! give our sprightly race away For the dull helpless sons of clay!Besides, by partial fondness shown, Like you, we dote upon our own. Where yet was ever found a mother Who'd give her booby for another? And should we change with human breed, Well might we pass for fools indeed.”

As Jupiter's all-seeing eye

Survey'd the worlds beneath the sky,
From this small speck of earth were sent
Murmurs and sounds of discontent:
For every thing alive complain'd

That he the hardest life sustain'd.
Jove calls his eagle. At the word
Before him stands the royal bird.

The bird, obedient, from heaven's height,
Downward directs his rapid flight;

Then cited every living thing

To hear the mandates of his king. "Ungrateful creatures! whence arise These murmurs which offend the skies?

Why this disorder? say the cause;
For just are Jove's eternal laws.
Let each his discontent reveal;

To yon sour Dog I first appeal.

"Hard is my lot," the Hound replies: "On what fleet nerves the Greyhound flies; While I, with weary step and slow,

O'er plains, and vales, and mountains go.
The morning sees my chase begun,

Nor ends it till the setting sun.'

"When," says the Greyhound, "I pursue, My game is lost, or caught in view; Beyond my sight the prey's secure : The Hound is slow, but always sure; And had I his sagacious scent, Jove ne'er had heard my discontent." The Lion craved the Fox's art, The Fox the Lion's force and heart: The Cock implored the Pigeon's flight. Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light; The Pigeon strength of wing despised, And the Cock's matchless valour prized: The Fishes wish'd to graze the plain, The Beasts to skim beneath the main : Thus, envious of another's state,

Each blamed the partial hand of Fate.

The bird of heaven then cried aloud, "Jove bids disperse the murmuring crowd; The god rejects your idle prayers. Would ye, rebellious mutineers!

Entirely change your name and nature,
And be the very envied creature?
What, silent all, and none consent?
Be happy, then, and learn content:
Nor imitate the restless mind,
And proud ambition, of mankind."