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Thus thriving on industrious toil,

He gloried in his pilfer'd spoil.

This trick so swell'd him with conceit,
He thought no enterprise too great.
Alike in sciences and arts,
He boasted universal parts:
Pragmatic, busy, bustling, bold,
His arrogance was uncontroll'd;
And thus he made his party good,
And grew-dictator of the wood.

The beasts, with admiration, stare,
And think him a prodigious Bear.
Were any common booty got,
'Twas his each portion to allot :

For why? he found there might be picking,
E'en in the carving of a chicken.

Intruding thus, he by degrees

Claim'd, too, the butcher's larger fees,

And now his overweening pride

In every province will preside.

No task too difficult was found:

His blundering nose misleads the hound,

In stratagem and subtle arts,

He overrules the Fox's parts.

It chanced as, on a certain day,

Along the bank he took his

way,

He stopt, and, turning to his train,

Thus pertly vents his vaunting strain:

"What blundering puppies are mankind,

In every science always blind!

I mock the pedantry of schools:

What are their compasses and rules?
From me that helm shall conduct learn,
And man his ignorance discern.”

So saying, with audacious pride,
He sat inghe Boat, and climbs the side.
The beasts, astonish'd, line the strand:
The anchor's weigh'd; he drives from land:
The slack sail shifts from side to side;
The Boat untrimm'd admits the tide.
Borne down, adrift, at random tost,
His oar breaks short, the rudder 's lost.
The Bear, presuming in his skill,
Is here and there officious still;
Till, striking on the dangerous sands,
Aground the shatter'd vessel stands.
To see the bungler thus distress'd,

The

very fishes sneer and jest: E'en gudgeons join in ridicule,

To mortify the meddling fool.

The clamorous watermen appear;

Threats, curses, oaths insult his ear:

Seized, thrash'd, and chain'd, he's dragg'd to land; Derision shouts along the strand.

[graphic]

THE SQUIRE AND HIS CUR.

To a Country Gentleman.

THE man of pure and simple heart
Through life disdains a double part;
He never needs the screen of lies,
His inward bosom to disguise:
In vain malicious tongues assail;
Let Envy snarl, let Slander rail,
From Virtue's shield (secure from wound)
Their blunted venom'd shafts rebound.
So shines his light before mankind,
His actions prove his honest mind.
If in his country's cause he rise,
Debating senates to advise,

Unbribed, unawed, he dares impart
The honest dictates of his heart:
No ministerial frown he fears,
But in his virtue perseveres.

But would you play the politician,
Whose heart's averse to intuition,
Your lips at all times, nay, your reason
Must be controll'd by place and season.
What statesman could his power support,
Were lying tongues forbid the court?
Did princely ears to truth attend,
What minister could gain his end?
How could he raise his tools to place,
And how his honest foes disgrace ?
That politician tops his part,

Who readily can lie with art:

The man's proficient in his trade;

His power is strong, his fortune's made

By that the interest of the throne
Is made subservient to his own;
By that have kings of old, deluded,

All their own friends, for his, excluded:
By that, his selfish schemes pursuing,
He thrives upon the public ruin.

;

Antiochus,* with hardy pace, Provoked the dangers of the chase; And, lost from all his menial train, Traversed the wood and pathless plain. A cottage lodged the royal guest; The Parthian Clown bought forth his best.

* Plutarch.

The King, unknown, his feast enjoy'd,
And various chat the hours employ'd.
From wine what sudden friendship springs!
Frankly they talked of courts and kings.

"We country folks," the Clown replies,
Could ope our gracious monarch's eyes,
The King (as all our neighbours say),
Might he (God bless him!) have his way,
Is sound at heart, and means our good,
And he would do it if he could.

If truth in courts were not forbid,

Nor kings nor subjects would be rid.
Were he in power, we need not doubt him;
But that transferr'd to those about him:
On them he throws the regal cares;
And what mind they? Their own affairs.
If such rapacious hands he trust,
The best of men may seem unjust.

From kings to cobblers 'tis the same;
Bad servants wound their master's fame.
In this our neighbours all agree:

Would the king knew as much as we!"-
Here he stopp'd short. Repose they sought;
The Peasant slept, the Monarch thought.
The courtiers learn'd, at early dawn,
Where their lost sovereign was withdrawn.
The guards' approach our host alarms;
With gaudy coats their cottage swarms.
The crown and purple robes they bring,
And prostrate fall before the King.

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