Let every fervant speak his claim
Merit fhall bear this ebon wand."
All, at the word, ftretch'd forth their hand. 10
Fever, with burning heat poffeft,
Advanc'd, and for the wand addrest.
"I to the weekly bills appeal,
Let those express my fervent zeal;
On every flight occafion near,
With violence I perfevere."
Next Gout appears with limping pace,
Pleads how he shifts from place to place;
From head to foot how fwift he flies,
And every joint and finew plies;
Still working when he seems fuppreft,
A most tenacious ftubborn guest.
A haggard spectre from the crew
Crawls forth, and thus afferts his due:
"Tis I who taint the sweetest joy,
And in the shape of Love deftroy :
My fhanks, funk eyes, and nofelefs face,
Prove my pretenfion to the place."
Stone urg'd his ever-growing force;
And, next, Confumption's meagre corfe,
With feeble voice that fcarce was heard,
Broke with short coughs, his fuit preferr'd:
"Let none object my lingering way,
I gain, like Fabius, by delay;
Fatigue and weaken every foe
By long attack, fecure, though flow."
Plague represents his rapid power,
Who thinn'd a nation in an hour.
All spoke their claim, and hop'd the wand.
Now expectation hush'd the band;
When thus the Monarch from the throne:
"Merit was ever modest known.
What, no Phyfician speak his right!
None here! but fees their toils requite.
Let then Intemperance take the wand,
Who fills with gold their zealous hand.
You, Fever, Gout, and all the rest,
(Whom wary men, as foes, deteft)
Forego your claim; no more pretend;
Intemperance is efteem'd a friend;
He shares their mirth, their focial joys,
And as a courted guest destroys.
The charge on him must justly fall,
Who finds employment for you all.”
THE GARDENER AND THE HOG.
GARDENER, of peculiar tafte, On a young Hog his favour plac'd, Who fed not with the common herd; His tray was to the hall preferr❜d.
He wallow'd underneath the board,
Or in his mafter's chamber fnor'd,
Who fondly ftroak'd him every day,
And taught him all the Puppy's play.
Where'er he went, the grunting friend
Ne'er fail'd his pleasure to attend.
As on a time the loving pair
Walk'd forth to tend the garden's care,
The Mafter thus addrefs'd the Swine:
"My houfe, my garden, all is thine.
On turnips feast whene'er you please,
And riot in my beans and pease;
If the potatoe's taste delights,
Or the red carrot's sweet invites,
Indulge thy morn and evening hours;
But let due care regard my flowers:
My tulips are my garden's pride:
What vaft expence thofe beds fupply'd!"
The Hog by chance one morning roam'd,
Where with new ale the veffels foam'd:
He munches now the fteaming grains,
Now with full fwill the liquor drains.
Intoxicating fumes arife;
He reels, he rolls his winking eyes;
Then ftaggering through the garden fcours,
And treads down painted ranks of flowers.
With delving fnout he turns the foil,
And cools his palate with the fpoil.
The Master came, the ruin spy'd;
« Villain! suspend thy rage, he cry'd.
Haft thou, thou moft ungrateful fot,
My charge, my only charge, forgot?
What, all my flowers!" No more he said,
But gaz'd, and figh'd, and hung his head.
The Hog with ftuttering speech returns:
Explain, Sir, why your anger burns. See there, untouch'd, your tulips strown, For I devour'd the roots alone."
At this the Gardener's paffion grows; From oaths and threats he fell to blows. The ftubborn brute the blows fuftains,
Affaults his leg, and tears the veins.
"Ah! foolish Swain! too late
That ftyes were for fuch friends defign'd!"
Homeward he limps with painful pace,
Reflecting thus on paft disgrace:
"Who cherishes a brutal mate,
Shall mourn the folly foon or late.”
WHETHER on earth, in air, or main,
Sure every thing alive is vain!
Does not the Hawk all fowls furvey,
When the Crab views the pearly strands,
Or Tagus, bright with golden fands,
Or crawls befide the coral grove,
And hears the ocean roll above,
"Nature is too profufe, fays he,
Who gave all thefe to pleasure me !"
When bordering pinks and rofes bloom,
And every garden breathes perfume;
When peaches glow with funny dyes,
Like Laura's cheek when blushes rife ;
When with huge figs the branches bend,
When clusters from the vine depend;
The Snail looks round on flower and tree,
And cries," All thefe were made for me!"
"What dignity's in human nature!”
Says Man, the most conceited creature,
As from a cliff he caft his eye,
And view'd the sea and arched sky.
The fun was funk beneath the main;
The moon and all the starry train
Hung the vast vault of Heaven. The Man
His contemplation thus began:
"When I behold this glorious fhow,
And the wide watery world below,
The scaly people of the main,
The beafts that range the wood or plain,
The wing'd inhabitants of air,
The day, the night, the various year;
And know all thefe by Heaven defign'd
As gifts to pleasure human-kind;
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