But, where he past, he terror threw,
The fong broke fhort, the warblers flew;
The thrushes chatter'd with affright,
And nightingales abhorr'd his fight;
All animals before him ran,
To fhun the hateful fight of man.
Whence is this dread of every creature?
Fly they our figure, or our nature!
As thus he walk'd in mufing thought,.
His ear imperfect accents caught;
With cautious ftep he nearer drew,
By the thick fhade conceal'd from view..
High on the branch a pheasant stood,
Around her all her liftening brood;
Proud of the bleffings of her neft,
She thus a mother's care exprefs'd.
"No dangers here fhall circumvent,
Within the woods enjoy content.
Sooner the hawk or vulture truft
Than man, of animals the worst.
In him ingratitude you find,
A vice peculiar to the kind.
The sheep, whofe annual fleece is dy'd
To guard his health, and serve his pride,.
Forc'd from his fold and native plain,
Is in the cruel fhambles flain.
The fwarms who, with induftrious skill,.
His hives with wax and honey fill,
In vain whole fummer-days employ'd,
Their ftores are fold, the race, destroy'd.
What tribute from the goofe is paid !
Does not her wing all science aid?
Does it not lovers' hearts explain,
And drudge to raife the merchant's gain ?
What now rewards this general ufe?
He takes the quills, and eats the goose.
Man then avoid, deteft his ways,
So fafety fhall prolong your days.
When fervices are thus acquitted,
Be fure we Pheasants must be fpitted."
THE PIN AND THE NEEDLE.
PIN who long had ferv'd a beauty,
Proficient in the toilette's duty,
Had form'd her fleeve, confin'd her hair,
Or given her knot a smarter air,
Now nearest to her heart was plac'd,
Now in her manteau's tail difgrac'd:
But could the partial Fortune blame,
Who faw her lovers ferv'd the fame ?
At length from all her honours caft,
Through various turns of life fhe past;
Now glitter'd on a taylor's arm,
Now kept a beggar's infant warm ;
Now, rang'd within a mifer's coat,
Contributes to his yearly groat;
Now, rais'd again from low approach,
She vifits in the doctor's coach:
Here, there, by various fortune toft,
At laft in Gresham-hall was lost.
Charm'd with the wonders of the show,
On every fide, above, below,
She now of this or that inquires,
What least was understood admires.
'Tis plain, each thing so struck her mind, Her head's of virtuofo kind.
"And pray what 's this, and this, dear Sir?" 25 "A Needle," fays th' interpreter.
She knew the name; and thus the fool
Addrefs'd her as a tailor's tool.
"A Needle with that filthy ftone,
Quite idle, all with ruft o'ergrown!
You better might employ your parts,
And aid the fempftress in her arts;
But tell me how the friendship grew
Between that paltry flint and you.”
"Friend, fays the Needle, ceafe to blame; I follow real worth and fame.
Know'st thou the loadstone's power and art,.
That virtue virtues can impart?
Of all his talents I partake:
Who then can fuch a friend forfake?
"Tis I direct the pilot's hand
To fhun the rocks and treacherous fand:
Had I with milliners been bred,
What had I been? the guide of thread,
And drudg'd as vulgar Needles do,
Of no more confequence than you.”
THE SHEPHERD'S DOG AND THE WOLF.
AWOLF, with hunger fierce and bold,
Ravag'd the plains, and thinn'd the fold;
Deep in the wood fecure he lay,
The thefts of night regal'd the day.
In vain the fhepherd's wakeful care
Had fpread the toils, and watch'd the fnare;
In vain the Dog pursued his pace,
The fleeter robber mock'd the chace.
As Lightfoot rang'd the foreft round,
By chance his foe's retreat he found.
Let us a while the war fufpend,
And reafon as from friend to friend.
"A truce?" replies the Wolf. 'Tis done.
The Dog the parley thus begun.
"How can that ftrong intrepid mind Attack a weak defencelefs kind?
Thofe jaws fhould prey on nobler food,
And drink the boar's and lion's blood.
Great fouls with generous pity melt,
Which coward tyrants never felt.
How harmlefs is our fleecy care!
Be brave, and let thy mercy fpare."
"Friend, fays the Wolf, the matter weigh;
Nature defign'd us beafts of prey;
As fuch, when hunger finds a treat,
'Tis neceffary wolves should eat.
If, mindful of the bleating weal,
Thy bosom burn with real zeal,
Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech;
To him repeat the moving speech:
A Wolf eats fheep but now and then,
Ten thousands are devour'd by men.
THE PAINTER WHO PLEASED NOBODY
AND EVERY BODY.
LEST men fufpect your tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.
The traveller leaping o'er those bounds,
The credit of his book confounds.
Who with his tongue hath armies routed,
Makes ev'n his real courage doubted.
But flattery never seems abfurd;
The flatter'd always take your word:
Impoffibilities feem juft;
They take the strongest praife on trust.
Hyperboles, though ne'er fo great,
Will ftill come fhort of felf-conceit.
So very like a Painter drew,
every eye the picture knew;
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