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They in your infant bosom trace

The virtues of your royal race;

In the fair dawning of your mind
Discern you gen'rous, mild, and kind:
They see you grieve to hear distress,
And pant already to redress.

Go on, the height of good attain,
Nor let a nation hope in vain:
For hence we justly may presage
The virtues of a riper age.

True courage shall your bosom fire,
And future actions own your sire;
Cowards are cruel, but the brave
Love mercy, and delight to save.

A Tiger, roaming for his prey,
Sprung on a Trav'ller in the way;
The prostrate game a Lion spies,
And on the greedy tyrant flies:

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With mingled roar resounds the wood,

Their teeth, their claws, distil with blood;

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Till, vanquish'd by the Lion's strength,

The spotted foe extends his length.
The man besought the shaggy lord,
And on his knees for life implor'd.
His life the gen'rous hero gave.
Together walking to his cave,
The Lion thus bespoke his guest:

What hardy beast shall dare contest

My matchless strength? You saw the fight,
And must attest my pow'r and right.
Forc'd to forego their native home,
My starving slaves at distance roam.
Within these woods I reign alone;
The boundless forest is my own.

Bears, wolves, and all the savage brood,
Have dy'd the regal den with blood.
These carcasses, on either hand,
Those bones that whiten all the land,
My former deeds and triumphs tell,
Beneath these jaws what numbers fell.

True, says the Man, the strength I saw
Might well the brutal nation awe;
But shall a monarch, brave, like you,
Place glory in so false a view?
Robbers invade their neighbour's right.
Be lov'd; let justice bound your might.
Mean are ambitious heroes' boasts
Of wasted lands and slaughter'd hosts.
Pirates their pow'r by murders gain;
Wise kings by love and mercy reign.
To me your clemency hath shown
The virtue worthy of a throne.

Heav'n gives you pow'r above the rest,
Like Heav'n, to succour the distrest.
The case is plain, the monarch said;
False glory hath my youth misled;

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For beasts of prey, a servile train,

Have been the flatt'rers of my reign.

You reason well. Yet tell me, Friend,
Did ever you in courts attend?
For all my fawning rogues agree

That human heroes rule like me.

FABLE II.

THE SPANIEL AND THE CAMELION.

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A SPANIEL, bred with all the care
That waits upon a fav'rite heir,
Ne'er felt Correction's rigid hand;
Indulg'd to disobey command,

In pamper'd ease his hours were spent ;
He never knew what learning meant.
Such forward airs, so pert, so smart,
Were sure to win his Lady's heart;
Each little mischief gain'd him praise;
How pretty were his fawning ways!

The wind was south, the morning fair,
He ventures forth to take the air:
He ranges all the meadow round,
And rolls upon the softest ground;
When near him a camelion seen,
Was scarce distinguish'd from the green.
Dear emblem of the flatt'ring host,
What, live with clowns! a genius lost!

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To cities and the court repair;

A fortune cannot fail thee there:

Preferment shall thy talents crown;
Believe me, Friend; I know the Town.
Sir, says the Sycophant, like you,
Of old, politer life I knew:

Like you, a courtier born and bred,
Kings lean'd their ear to what I said.
My whisper always met success;
The ladies prais'd me for address.
I knew to hit each courtier's passion,
And flatter'd ev'ry vice in fashion:
But Jove, who hates the liar's ways,
At once cut short my prosp'rous days,
And, sentenc'd to retain my nature,
Transform'd me to this crawling creature.
Doom'd to a life obscure and mean,
I wander in the sylvan scene:
For Jove the heart alone regards;
He punishes what man rewards.
How diff'rent is thy case and mine?
With men at least you sup and dine,
While I condemn'd to thinnest fare,
Like those I flatter'd, feed on air.

Volume III.

B

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THE MOTHER, THE NURSE, AND THE FAIRY.

GIVE
IVE me a son. The blessing sent,
Were ever parents more content?
How partial are their doating eyes!
No child is half so fair and wise.

Wak'd to the morning's pleasing care,
The mother rose and sought her heir.
She saw the Nur e like one possest,
With ringing 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 ev'ry feature.

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 thro' the keyhole swift as light;

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