And, copying the Socratic rule,
Set up for master of a school.
Dogmatic jargon learn'd by heart,
Wrote sentences, hard terms of art,
To vulgar ears seem'd so profound,
They fancied learning in the sound.

The school had fame; the crowded place
With pupils swarm'd of every race.
With these the Swan's maternal care
Had sent her scarce-fledged cygnet heir
The hen (though fond and loath to part)
Here lodged the darling of her heart :
The Spider, of mechanic kind,
Aspired to science more refined:
The Ass learn'd metaphors and tropes,
But most on music fix'd his hopes.

The pupils now, advanced in age, Were call'd to tread life's busy stage; And to the Master 'twas submitted,

That each might to his part be fitted :—

6

'The swan,' says he, ‘in arms shall shine;

The soldier's glorious toil be thine.'

'The Cock shall mighty wealth attain: Go, seek it on the stormy main.'

The court shall be the Spider's sphere: Power, fortune, shall reward him there.'

In music's art, the Ass's fame

Shall emulate Corelli's name.'

Each took the part that he advised,

And all were equally despised.

A Farmer, at his folly moved,

The dull preceptor thus reproved:

"Blockhead," says he, "by what you've done, One would have thought 'em each your son;

For parents, to their offspring blind,

Consult nor parts nor turn of mind,
But e'en in infancy decree

What this, what t'other son shall be.
Had you with judgment weigh'd the case,
Their genius thus had fix'd their place,
The swan had learnt the sailor's art;
The cock had play'd the soldier's part;
The spider in the weaver's trade
With credit had a fortune made;
But for the fool, in every class

The blockhead had appear'd an Ass."

To a poor Man.

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, mortal feels his own.

But every

We're born a restless needy crew:

Show me the happier man than you.
Adam, though bless'd above his kind,
For want of social woman, pined.

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.
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
Embitter all his days with care.
This wants an heir; the line is lost:
Why was that vain entail engross'd?
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 Cook-maid'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 cursed?" 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 lapdog kind,
I then, in higher life employ'd,
Had indolence and ease enjoy'd;
And like a gentleman, caress'd,
Had been the lady's favourite guest:
Or were sprung from spaniel line,
Were his sagacious nostril mine,
By me, their never-erring guide,
From wood and plain their feasts supplied,
Knights, squires, attendant on my pace,
Had shared the pleasures of the chase.