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“ When (says the Greyhound) I pursue, 25. My game is lost, or caught in view; Beyond my fight the prey's fecure; The Hound is flow, but always sure; And; had I his fagacious fcent, Jove ne’er had heard my discontent."

The Lion cray'd the Fox's art; The Fox the Lion's force and heart : The Cock implor'd the Pigeon's fight, Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light: The Pigeon strength of wing despis’d, 35 And the Cock's matchless valour priz’d. The fishes with’d to graze the plain ; The Beasts, to skim beneath the main.. Thus, rious another's state, Each blam'd the partial hand of Fate.

The Bird of Heaven then cry'd aloud : “ Jove bids disperse the murmuring crowd ; The God rejects your idle prayers. Would ye, rebellious Mutineers ! Entirely change your name and nature, 45 And be the very envy'd creature ? What! silent all, and none consent? Be happy, then, and learn content; Nor imitate the restless mind, And proud ambition, of mankind.”

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FABLE

F A B L E

V.

THE WILD BOAR AND THE RAM. *

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A

GAINST an elm a sheep was ty’d,

The butcher's knife in blood was dy'd;
The patient flock, in silent fright,
From far beheld the horrid sight.
A savage Boar, who near them stood,
Thus mock'd to scorn the fleecy brood.

“ All cowards should be serv'd like you.
See, see, your murderer is in view :
With purple hands, and reeking knife,
He strips the skin yet warm with life.
Your quarter'd fires, your bleeding dams,
The dying bleat of harmless lambs,
Call for revenge. O ftupid Race !
The heart that wants revenge is base.”

“ I grant, an ancient Ram replies,
Wę bear no terror in our eyes;
Yet think us not of soul fo tame,
Which no repeated wrongs infiame;
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.

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D 4

Our

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Our skin supplies the wrangling bar,
It wakes their slumbering fons to war;
And well revenge may reft contented,
Since drums and parchment were invented.”

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THE

HE 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,

5 In every

creek and corner pries;
Then opes the chest with treasure ftorld,
And stands in rapture o'er his hoard.
But now, with sudden qualms poffeft,
He wrings his hands, he beats his breast;
By conscience ftung, he wildly ftares,
And thus his guilty foul declares:

“ Had the deep earth her stores confin'd,
This heart had known fweet peace of mind.
But virtue's sold. Good Gods! what price 15
Can recompense the pangs of vice !
O bane of good ! seducing cheat!
Can man, weak man, thy power defeat ?
Gold banith'd honour froin 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

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Twas gold instructed coward-hearts
In treachery's more pernicious arts.
Who can recount the mischiefs o'er?

25 Virtue resides on earth no more !” He spoke, and figh'd. In angry mood Plutus, his god, before him ftood. The Miser, trembling, lock'd his cheft; 'The Vision frown'd, and thus address’d:

“ Whence is this vile ungrateful rant,
Each fordid rascal's daily cant ?
Did I, base wretch! corrupt mankind ?
The fault's in thy rapacious mind.
Because my blessings are abus'd,

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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 Power (when lodg'd in their poffeffion)
Grows tyranny, and rank oppreffion.
Thus, when the villain crams his chest,
Gold is the canker of the breast;
'Tis avarice, infolence, and pride,
And every shocking vice beside :
But, when to virtuous hands 'tis given,
It blesses, like the dews'of Heaven :
Like Heaven, it hears the orphan's cries,
And wipes the tears from widows' eyes.
Their crimes on gold shall Misers lay,
Who pawn'd their fordid fouls for pay? 50
Let bravoes, then, when blood is fpilt,
Upbraid the passive soul with guilt."

FABLE

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THE LION, THE FOX, AND THE GEESE.

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A

LION, tir'd with state-affairs,

Quite fick of pomp, and worn with cares, Resoly'd (remote from noise and strife) In peace to pass his latter life. It was proclaim'd; the day was set ;

5 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 wifdom in his face. The crowd admire his wit, his sense ; Each word hath weight and consequence. The flatterer all his art displays:

15 He who hath power is sure of praise. A Fox ftept forth before the rest, And thus the servile throng addreft:

“ How vast his talents, born to rule, And train'd in Virtue's honeft 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 ;

25 Prudence and mercy rule his heart.

What

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