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But yet with patience you fhall view

As much as paint and art can do.”

Obferve the work. My Lord replied,
"Till now I thought my mouth was wide ;
Befides, my nofe is fomewhat long:
Dear Sir, for me, 'tis far too young."

"Oh! pardon me, the artist cry'd;

In this we Painters must decide.

The piece ev'n common eyes must ftrike,
I warrant it extremely like."

My Lord examin'd it a-new;
No looking-glafs feem'd half fo true,
A lady came with borrow'd
grace
He from his Venus form'd her face.
Her lover prais'd the Painter's art;
So like the picture in his heart!

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Would any man the picture own?

But, when thus hapily he wrought,
Each found the likeness in his thought.

FABLE XIX.

THE LION AND THE CUB.

OW fond are men of rule and place,

HOW

Whe court it from the mean and base!

These

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These cannot bear an equal nigh,
But from fuperior merit fly.
They love the cellar's vulgar joke,

And lofe their hours in ale and smoke.
There o'er fome petty club prefide;
So poor, fo paltry, is their pride!

Nay, ev❜n with fools whole nights will fit,
In hopes to be fupreme in wit.

If thefe can read, to these I write,
To fet their worth in trueft light.

A Lion-cub, of sordid mind,
Avoided all the lion kind;

Fond of applause he fought the feafts
Of vulgar and ignoble beafts;

With affes all his time he spent,

Their club's perpetual prefident.

He caught their manners, looks, and airs;
An afs in every thing but ears!

If e'er his Highness meant a joke,

They grinn'd applause before he spoke ;
But at each word what shouts of praise !
Goods gods! how natural he brays!

Elate with flattery and conceit,
He seeks his royal fire's retreat;
Forward and fond to show his parts,
His Highness brays; the Lion starts.

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Puppy! that curs'd vociferation Betrays thy life and converfation:

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Coxcombs, an ever-noify race,

Are trumpets of their own difgrace."

Why

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Our fenate always held me wife."

Why fo fevere? the Cub replies;

"How weak is pride! returns the fire:
All fools are vain when fools admire!
But know, what stupid affes prize,
Lions and noble beasts despise."

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FABLE XX.

THE OLD HEN AND THE COCK.

ESTRAIN

RE

your child; you 'Il foon believe

The text which fays we fprung from Eve.

As an old Hen led forth her train,

And feem'd to peck to fhow the grain,

She rak'd the chaff, fhe fcratch'd the ground, 5 And glean'd the spacious yard around.

A giddy chick, to try her wings,

On the well's narrow margin springs,

And prone she drops. The mother's breast

All day with forrow was pofleft.

A Cock the met; her fon fhe knew; And in her heart affection grew.

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My fon, says she, I grant your years
Have reach'd beyond a mother's cares.
I fee you vigorous, ftrong, and bold;.
I hear with joy your triumphs told.
'Tis not from Cocks thy fate I dread;
But let thy ever-wary tread
Avoid yon' well; that fatal place
Is fure perdition to our race.
VOL. XXXVII. F

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Print this my counsel on thy breaft:

To the just gods I leave the reft."
He thank'd her care; yet day by day

His bofom burn'd to disobey,

And every time the well he faw,
Scorn'd in his heart the foolish law:

Near and more near each day he drew,
And long'd to try the dangerous view.

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Why was this idle charge? he cries;
Let courage female fears defpife.
Or did she doubt my heart was brave,
And therefore this injunction gave:
Or does her harvest store the place
A treasure for her

younger

race?

And would the thus my fearch prevent?

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I ftand refolv'd, and dare th' event."

Thus faid, he mounts the margin's round, And pries into the depth profound.

He stretch'd his neck; and from below
With ftretching neck advanc'd a foe:
With wrath his ruffled plumes he rears,
The foe with ruffled plumes appears:
Threat anfwer'd threat; his fury grew;
Headlong to meet the war he flew ;
But, when the watery death he found,
He thus lamented as he drown'd:

"I ne'er had been in this condition, But for my Mother's prohibition."

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FABLE

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FABLE XXI.

THE RAT-CATCHER AND CATS.

THE rats by night fuch mifchief did,
Betty was every morning chid:

They undermin'd whole fides of bacon,

Her cheese was fapp'd, her tarts were taken;
Her pafties, fene'd with thickest paste,
Were all demolish'd and laid waste :
She curs'd the Cat, for want of duty,
Who left her foes a conftant booty.

An Engineer, of noted skill,
Engag'd to stop the growing ill.

From room to room he now furveys.

Their haunts, their works, their secret ways;
Finds where they 'fcape an ambuscade,
And whence the nightly fally's made.
An envious Cat from place to place,
Unseen, attends his filent pace:
She faw that, if his trade went on,
The purring race must be undone;
So fecretly removes his baits,
And every stratagem defeats:

Again he fets the poifon'd toils;
And Pufs again the labour foils.

"What foe. (to fruftrate my defigns)

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My schemes thus nightly countermines ?
Incens'd, he cries, this very hour

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The wretch shall bleed beneath my power."

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