Yet think us not of soul so tame,
Which no repeated wrongs inflame ;
Insensible of every ill,

Because we want thy tusks to kill.
Know, those who violence pursue,
Give to themselves the vengeance due;
For in these massacres they find

The two chief plagues that waste mankind.
Our skin supplies the wrangling bar,

It wakes their slumbering sons to war;
And well revenge may rest contented,
Since drums and parchment were invented.'

THE MISER AND PLUTUS.

THE wind was high, the window shakes,
With sudden start the Miser wakes;
Along the silent room he stalks,

Looks back, and trembles as he walks.
Each lock and every bolt he tries,
In every creek and corner pries,
Then opes the chest with treasure stor❜d,
And stands in rapture o'er his hoard.
But now with sudden qualms possest,
He wrings his hands, he beats his breast;
By conscience stung he wildly stares,
And thus his guilty soul declares:

'Had the deep earth her stores confin'd, This heart had known sweet peace of mind. But virtue's sold. Good gods! what price Can recompense the pangs of vice!

O bane of good! seducing cheat!
Can man, weak man, thy power defeat?
Gold banish'd honor from the mind,
And only left the name behind;
Gold sow'd the world with every ill;
Gold taught the murderer's sword to kill:
'Twas gold instructed coward hearts
In treachery's more pernicious arts.
Who can recount the mischiefs o'er?
Virtue resides on earth no more!'-
He spoke, and sigh'd. In angry mood,
Plutus, his god, before him stood.
The Miser, trembling, lock'd his chest ;
The Vision frown'd, and thus address'd:-
'Whence is this vile ungrateful rant,
Each sordid rascal's daily cant?
Did I, base wretch! corrupt mankind?
The fault's in thy rapacious mind.
Because my blessings are abus'd,
Must I be censur'd, curs'd, accus'd?
Ev'n Virtue's self by knaves is made
A cloak to carry on the trade;

And pow'r (when lodg'd in their possession)
Grows tyranny, and rank oppression.

Thus, when the villain crams his chest,
Gold is the canker of the breast;

'Tis avarice, insolence, and pride,
And every shocking vice beside:
But when to virtuous hands 'tis given,
It blesses, like the dews of Heav'n:
Like Heav'n, it hears the orphan's cries,
And wipes the tears from widows' eyes.
Their crimes on gold shall Misers lay,
Who pawn'd their sordid souls for pay?
Let bravos, then, when blood is spilt,
Upbraid the passive soul with guilt.'

THE LION, THE FOX, AND THE GEESE.

A LION, tir'd with state affairs,

Quite sick of pomp, and worn with cares,
Resolv'd (remote from noise and strife)
In peace to pass his latter life.

It was proclaim'd; the day was set;
Behold the general council met.

The Fox was viceroy nam'd. The crowd
To the new regent humbly bow'd.
Wolves, bears, and mighty tigers bend,
And strive who most shall condescend.
He straight assumes a solemn grace,
Collects his wisdom in his face;
The crowd admire his wit, his sense;

Each word hath weight and consequence.

The flatterer all his art displays :
He who hath pow'r is sure of praise.
A Fox stept forth before the rest,
And thus the servile throng addrest :

'How vast his talents, born to rule,
And train'd in Virtue's honest school!
What clemency his temper sways!
How uncorrupt are all his ways !
Beneath his conduct and command
Rapine shall cease to waste the land.
His brain hath stratagem and art;
Prudence and mercy rule his heart.
What blessings must attend the nation
Under this good administration!'

He said. A Goose, who distant stood, Harangued apart the cackling brood: 'Whene'er I hear a knave commend,

He bids me shun his worthy friend.
What praise! what mighty commendation!
But 'twas a Fox who spoke th' oration.
Foxes this government may prize
As gentle, plentiful, and wise;
If they enjoy the sweets, 'tis plain
We Geese must feel a tyrant reign.
What havoc now shall thin our race,
When every petty clerk in place,
To prove his taste, and seem polite,
Will feed on Geese both noon and night?'

THE LADY AND THE WASP.

WHAT whispers must the beauty bear!
What hourly nonsense haunts her ear!
Where'er her eyes dispense their charms,
Impertinence around her swarms.
Did not the tender nonsense strike,
Contempt and scorn might look dislike;
Forbidding airs might thin the place,
The slightest flap a fly can chase:

But who can drive the numerous breed?
Chase one, another will succeed.

Who knows a fool, must know his brother; One fop will recommend another:

And with this plague she's rightly curst,
Because she listen'd to the first.

As Doris, at her toilette's duty,
Sate meditating on her beauty,
She now was pensive, now was gay,
And loll'd the sultry hours away.

As thus in indolence she lies,
A giddy Wasp around her flies.
He now advances, now retires,
Now to her neck and cheek aspires.
Her fan in vain defends her charms;
Swift he returns, again alarms;