"Some birds there are, who, prone to noife,
"Are hir'd to filence wisdom's voice,
"And skill'd to chatter out the hour,
"Rife by their emptinefs to pow'r."
That this is aim'd direct at me,
No doubt, you'll readily agree;
Yet well this fage affembly knows,
By parts to government I rofe;
My prudent counfels prop the state;
Magpies were never known to prate.
The Kite rofe up. His honeft heart
In virtue's fuff rings bore a part.

That there were birds of prey he knew ;
So far the libeller faid true;

"Voracious, told, to rapine prone,
"Who knew no int'reft but their own;
"Who hov'ring o'er the farmer's yard,
"Nor pigeon, chick, nor duckling spar'd."
This might be true, but if apply'd
To him, in troth, the fland'rer ly'd.
Since ign'rance then might be misled,
Such things, he thought, were best unsaid.
The Crow was vex'd. As yefter-morn

He flew across the new-fown corn,
A screaming boy was fet for pay,
He knew to drive the crows away;
Scandal had found out him in turn,

And buzz'd abroad, that crows love corn.
The Owl arofe, with folemn face,
And thus harangu'd upon the cafe.
That magpies prate, it may be true,
A kite may be voracious too,
Crows fometimes deal in new-fown peafe;
He libels not, who ftrikes at these;
The flander's here- But there are birds,
"Whose wisdom lies in looks, not words;
"Blund'rers, who level in the dark,
"And always fhoot befide the mark."
He names not me; but these are hints,
Which manifeft at whom he fquints;
I were indeed that blund'ring fowl,
To question if he meant an owl.

Ye wretches, hence! the Eagle cries,
"Tis confcience, confcience that applies;
The virtuous mind takes no alarm,
Secur'd by innocence from harm;
While guilt, and his affociate fear,
Are ftartled at the paffing air.

TH

(So custom fays) must truth forbear; Muft fawn and flatter, cringe and lie, And raise the goddess to the sky. For truth is hateful to her ear, A rudeness, which the cannot bear.

A rudeness? Yes. I fpeak my thoughts;
For truth upbraids her with her faults.

How wretched, Cloe, then am I,
Who love you, and yet cannot lie!
And still to make you lefs my friend,
I ftrive your errors to amend!
But shall the fenfeless fop impart
The fofteft paffion to your heart,

While he, who tells you honeft truth,
And points to happiness your youth,
Determines, by his care, his lot,
And lives neglected, and forgot?

Trust me, my dear, with greater ease
Your tafte for flatt'ry I could please,
And fimilies in each dull line,

Like glow-worms in the dark, fhould shine.
What if I fay your lips difclofe

The freshness of the op'ning rofe?
Or that your cheeks are beds of flow'rs,
Enripen'd by refreshing show'rs?

Yet certain as these flow'rs shall fade,
Time every beauty will invade.
The butterfly, of various hue,
More than the flow'r 'resembles you;
Fair, flutt'ring, fickle, busy thing,
To pleasure ever on the wing,
Gayly coquetting for an hour,

To die, and ne'er be thought of more. Would you the bloom of youth should last ? 'Tis virtue that must bind it fast;

An easy carriage, wholly free
From four referve, or levity;
Good-natur'd mirth, an open heart,
And looks unskill'd in any art;
Humility, enough to own

The frailties, which a friend makes known;
And decent pride enough to know
The worth, that virtue can bestow.

These are the charms, which ne'er decay,
Though youth and beauty fade away;
And time, which all things else removes,
Still heightens virtue, and improves.

You'll frown, and ask to what intent
This blunt addrefs to you is fent?
I'll fpare the question, and confess
I'd praise you, if I lov'd you lefs;
But rail, be angry, or complain,
I will be rude, while you are vain.

BENEATH a lion's peaceful reign,
When beafts met friendly on the plain,
A Panther, of majestic port,
(The vaineft female of the court)
With spotted fkin, and eyes of fire,
Fill'd every bofom with desire,

Where-e'er fhe mov'd, a fervile crowd
Of fawning creatures cring'd and bow'd;
Affemblies every week fhe held,

(Like modern belles) with coxcombs fill'd,
Where noife, and nonfenfe, and grimace,
And lies and fcandal fill'd the place.

Behold the gay, fantastic thing, Encircled by the fpacious ring. Low-bowing, with important look, As firft in rank, the Monkey fpoke. "Gad take me, madam, but I fwear, "No angel ever look'd so fair: "Forgive my rudeness, but I vow, "You were not quite divine till now; "Thofe limbs! that shape! and then those eyet! "O, close them, or the gazer dies!"

Nay, gentle Pug, for goodness hufh,

I vow, and swear, you make me blush;
I shall be angry at this rate;
'Tis fo like flatt'ry, which I hate.

The Fox, in deeper cunning vers'd,
The beauties of her mind rehears'd,
And talk'd of knowledge, tafte, and fenfe,
To which the fair have vaft pretence !
Yet well he knew them always vain
Of what they ftrive not to attain,
And play'd fo cunningly his part,
That Pug was rival'd in his art.

The Goat avow'd his am'rous flame;
And burnt-for what he durft not name;
Yet hop'd a meeting in the wood
Might make his meaning understood.
Half angry at the bold addrefs,

She frown'd; but yet she must confess,
Such beauties might inflame his blood,
But ftill his phrafe was somewhat rude.
The Hog her neatness much admir'd;
The formal Afs her swiftness fir'd;
While all to feed her folly strove,
And by their praises fhar'd her love.

The horse, whofe gen'rous heart disdain'd
Applaufe, by fervile flatt'ry gain'd,
With graceful courage, filence broke,
And thus with indignation spoke.

When flatt'ring monkeys fawn, and prate, They juftly raise contempt or hate; For merit's turn'd to ridicule, Applauded by the grinning fool. The artful Fox your wit commends, To lure you to his selfish ends; From the vile flatt'rer turn away, For knaves make friendships to betray. Difmifs the train of fops, and fools, And learn to live by wifdom's rules; Such beauties might the lion warm, Did not your folly break the charm; For who would court that lovely fhape, To be the rival of an ape?

He faid; and fnorting in difdain, Spurn'd at the crowd, and fought the plain,

ONE night, a Glow-worm, proud and vain, Contemplating her glitt'ring train,

Cry'd, Sure there never was in nature
So elegant, fo fine a creature.

All other infects, that I fee,
The frugal ant, industrious bee,

Or filk-worm, with contempt I view ;
With all that low, mechanic crew,
Who fervilely their lives employ
In bufinefs, enemy to joy.
Mean, vulgar herd! ye are my fcorn,
For grandeur only I was born,
Or fure am fprung from race divine,
And plac'd on earth, to live and fhine.
Thofe lights that fparkle fo on high,
Are but the glow-worms of the sky,

And kings on earth their gems admire,
Because they imitate my fire.

She fpoke. Attentive on a fpray,
A Nightingale forbore his lay;
He faw the fhining morfel near,
And flew, directed by the glare;
A while he gaz'd with sober look,
And thus the trembling prey bespoke.

Deluded fool, with pride elate,
Know, 'tis thy beauty brings thy fate:
Lefs dazzling, long thou might'st have lain
Unheeded on the velvet plain :

Pride, foon or late, degraded mourns,
And beauty wrecks whom she adorns.

THE Chades were fled, the morning blush'd,
The winds were in their caverns hush'd,
When Hymen, penfive and fedate,
Held o'er the fields his mufing gait.

Behind him, through the green-wood shade,
Death's meagre form the god furvey'd,
Who quickly, with gigantic ftride,
Out-went his pace, and join'd his fide.
The chat on various fubjects ran,
Till angry Hymen thus began.

Relentless Death, whose iron fway
Mortals reluctant muft obey,
Still of thy pow'r fhall I complain,
And thy too partial hand arraign?
When Cupid brings a pair of hearts
All over ftuck with equal darts,
Thy cruel fhafts my hopes deride,
And cut the knot, that Hymen ty'd.
Shall not the bloody, and the bold,
The mifer, hoarding up his gold,
The harlot, reeking from the stew,
Alone thy fell revenge pursue?
But muft the gentle, and the kind,
Thy fury, undiftinguish'd, find?

The monarch calmly thus reply'd:
Weigh well the caufe, and then decide.
That friend of yours, you lately nam'd,
Cupid, alone is to be blam'd;
Then let the charge be justly laid;
That idle boy neglects his trade,
And hardly once in twenty years,
A couple to your temple bears.

The wretches, whom your office blends,
Silenus now, or Plutus fends;
Hence care, and bitterness, and ftrife
Are common to the nuptial life.

Believe me; more than all mankind,
Your vot'ries my compaffion find;
Yet cruel am I call'd, and base,
Who feel the wretched to release;
The captive from his bonds to free,
Indiffoluble but for me.

1

AND HIS PATRON.

Wso loofe, to negligently lac'd?

THY, Cælia, is your fpreading waist

So

Why must the wrapping bed-gown hide
Your fnowy bofom's fwelling pride?
How ill that drefs adorns your head,
Diftain'd, and rumpled from the bed!

Thofe clouds, that shade your blooming face,
A little water might difplace,

As nature every morn bestows
The crystal dew, to cleanse the rofe.
Thofe treffes, as the raven black,
That wav'd in ringlets down your back,
Uncomb'd, and injur'd by neglect,
Destroy the face, which once they deck'd.
Whence this forgetfulness of drefs?
Pray, madam, are you marry'd? Yes.
Nay, then indeed the wonder ceases,
No matter pow how loofe your dress is ;
The end is won, your fortune's made,
Your fifter now may take the trade.

Alas! what pity 'tis to find
This fault in half the female kind!
From hence proceed averfion, ftrife,
And all that fours the wedded life.
Beauty can only point the dart,
'Tis neatness guides it to the heart;
Let neatnefs then, and beauty strive
To keep a wav'ring flame alive.

'Tis harder far (you'll find it true)
To keep the conqueft, than fubdue;
Admit us once behind the fcreen,
What is there farther to be seen?
A newer face may raise the flame,
But every woman is the fame.

Then ftudy chiefly to improve

The charm, that fix'd your husband's love,
Weigh well his humour. Was it dress
That gave your beauty power to blefs?
Purfue it ftill; be neater feen;
'Tis always frugal to be clean;
So fhall you keep alive defire,

And time's fwift wing shall fan the fire.

IN garret high (as stories say)
A Poet fung his tuneful lay;
So foft, fo fmooth his verse, you'd swear
Apollo, and the mufes there.

Through all the town his praises rung,
His fonnets at the playhouse fung;
High waving o'er his lab'ring head,
The goddess Want her pinions spread,
And with poetic fury fir'd,
What Phoebus faintly had infpir'd.

A noble Youth, of tafte and wit,
Approv'd the sprightly things he writ,
And fought him in his cobweb dome,
Difcharg'd his rent, and brought him home.
Behold him at the stately board,
Who, but the Poet, and my Lord!

Each day deliciously he dines,

And greedy quaffs the gen'rous wines;
His fides were plump, his skin was sleek,
And plenty wanton'd on his cheek;
Aftonish'd at the change fo new,
Away th' infpiring goddess flew.

Now, dropt for politics, and news,
Neglected lay the drooping muse;
Unmindful whence his fortune came,
He stified the poetic flame;
Nor tale, nor fonnet, for my lady,
Lampoon, nor epigram was ready.

With just contempt his Patron faw,
(Refolv'd his bounty to withdraw)
And thus, with anger in his look,
The late-repenting fool bespoke.

Blind to the good that courts thee grown, Whence has the fun of favour shone ? Delighted with thy tuneful art, Efteem was growing in my heart; But idly thou reject'ft the charm, That gave it birth, and kept it warm. Unthinking fools alone defpife

The arts, that taught them first to rise.

A WOLF, rapacious, rough and bold, Whofe nightly plunders thinn'd the fold, Contemplating his ill-fpent life,

And cloy'd with thefts, would take a wife.
His purpose known, the favage race,
In num'rous crowds, attend the place;
For why, a mighty Wolf he was,
And held dominion in his jaws.

Her fav'rite whelp each mother brought,
And humbly his alliance fought;
But cold by age, or elfe too nice,
None found acceptance in his eyes.
It happen'd, as at early dawn,
He folitary cross'd the lawn,
Stray'd from the fold, a sportive Lamb
Skip'd wanton by her fleecy Dam;
When Cupid, foe to man and beaft,
Discharg'd an arrow at his breast.

The tim'rous breed the robber knew,
And trembling, o'er the meadow flew;
Their nimbleft speed the Wolf o'ertook,
And courteous, thus the Dam bespoke.
Stay, faireft, and fufpend your fear,
Truft me, no enemy is near;

Thefe jaws, in flaughter oft imbru'd,
At length have known enough of blood;
And kinder bufineís brings me now,
Vanquish'd, at beauty's feet to bow.
You have a daughter-Sweet, forgive
A Wolf's addrefs-In her I live;
Love from her eyes like lightning came,
And fet my marrow all on flame;
Let your confent confirm my choice,
And ratify our nuptial joys.

Me ample wealth, and pow'r attend,
Wide o'er the plains my realms extend;
What midnight robber dare invade
The fold, if I the guard am made?
At home the fhepherd's cur may fleep,
While I fecure his master's fheep.
Difcourfe like this, attention claim'd;
Grandeur the mother's breast inflam'd;
Now fearless by his fide the walk'd,
Of fettlements, and jointures talk'd;
Propos'd, and doubled her demands
Of flow'ry fields, and turnip-lands.
The Wolf agrees. Her bofom fwells;
To Mifs her happy fate she tells;
And of the grand alliance vain,
Contemns her kindred of the plain.

The loathing Lamb with horror hears,
And wearies out her Dam with pray'rs;
But all in vain; mamma best knew
What inexperienc'd girls fhould do;
So, to the neighb'ring meadow carry'd,
A formal Afs the couple marry'd.

Torn from the tyrant-mother's fide,
The trembler goes, a victim-bride,
Reluctant, meets the rude embrace,
And bleats among the howling race.
With horror oft her eyes behold
Her murder'd kindred of the fold;
Each day a fifter-lamb is ferv'd,
And at the glutton's table carv'd;
The crashing bones he grinds for food,
And flakes his thirst with streaming blood,
Love, who the cruel mind detefts,
And lodges but in gentle breafts,
Was now no more. Enjoyment past,
The favage hunger'd for the feaft;
But (as we find in human race,
A mask conceals the villain's face)
Juftice muft authorize the treat;
Till then he long'd, but durft not eat.
As forth he walk'd, in queft of prey,
The hunters met him on the way;
Fear wings his flight; the marth he fought;
The fnuffing dogs are fet at fault.

His ftomach baulk'd, now hunger gnaws,
Howling, he grinds his empty jaws;
Food must be had, and lamb is nigh;
His maw invokes the fraudful lie.
Is this (diffembling rage, he cry'd)
The gentle virtue of a bride?

That, leagu'd with man's deftroying race,
She fets her husband for the chace?
By treach'ry prompts the noify hound
To fcent his footsteps on the ground?
Thou trait'refs vile! for this thy blood
Shall glut my rage, and dye the wood!
So faying, on the Lamb he flies,
Beneath his jaws the victim dies.

I

FABLE VII.

THE GOOSE, AND THE SWANS.

HATE the face, however fair,
That carries an affected air;
The lifping tone, the shape constrain'd,
The study'd look, the paffion feign'd,
Are fopperies,, which only tend
To injure what they ftrive to mend.

With what fuperior grace enchants
The face, which Nature's pencil paints!
Where eyes, unexercis'd in art,
Glow with the meaning of the heart!
Where freedom, and good-humour fit,
And eafy gaiety, and wit!
Though perfect beauty be not there,
The mafter lines, the finish'd air,
We catch from every look delight,
And grow enamour'd at the fight:
For beauty, though we all approve,
Excites our wonder more than love,
While the agreeable ftrikes fure,
And gives the wounds, we cannot cure.
Why then, my Amoret, this care,
That forms you, in effect, lefs fair?
If nature on your cheek bestows
A bloom, that emulates the rofe,
Or from fome heav'nly image drew
A form, Apelles never knew,
Your ill-judg'd aid will you impart,
And fpoil by meretricious art?
Or had you, nature's error, come
Abortive from the mother's womb,
Your forming care the ftill rejects,
Which only heightens her defects.
When fuch, of glitt'ring jewels proud,
Still prefs the foremost in the crowd,
At every public show are seen,
With look awry, and aukward mien,
The gaudy drefs attracts the eye,
And magnifies deformity.

Nature may under-do her part,
But feldom wants the help of art;
Truft Her; fhe is your furest friend,
Nor made your form for you to mend.

A GOOSE, affected, empty, vain,
The fhrilleft of the cackling train,
With proud, and elevated creft,
Precedence claim'd above the reft.

Says fhe, I laugh at human race,
Who fay, geefe hobble in their pace;
Look here! the fland'rous lie detect;
Not haughty man is so erect.

That peacock yonder! lord, how vain
The creature's of his gaudy train!
If both were stript, I'd pawn my word,
A goofe would be the finer bird.
Nature, to hide her own defects,
Her bungled work with finery decks;
Were geefe fet off with half that show,
Would men admire the peacock? No.

Thus vaunting, cross the mead the stalks,
The cackling breed attend her walks ;
The fun fhot down his noon-tide beams,
The Swans were sporting in the streams;
Their fnowy plumes, and ftately pride
Provok'd her fpleen. Why there, the cry'd,

Again, what arrogance we fee!
Thofe creatures! how they mimic me!
Shall every fowl the waters skim,
Because we geefe are known to swim?
Humility they foon fhall learn,
And their own emptiness discern.

So faying, with extended wings,
Lightly upon the wave the springs;
Her bofom fwells, the fpreads her plumes,
And the fwan's ftately creft affumes.
Contempt, and Mockery enfu'd,

And burfts of laughter shook the flood.
A Swan, fuperior to the rest,
Sprung forth, and thus the fool addrefs'd,
Conceited thing, elate with pride!
Thy affectation all deride;
These airs thy aukwardness impart,
And fhew thee plainly, as thou art.
Among thy equals of the flock,
Thou hadst efcap'd the public mock,
And as thy parts to good conduce,
Been deem'd an honeft hobbling goofe.
Learn hence, to study wisdom's rules;
Know, foppery's the pride of fools;
And striving nature to conceal,
You only her defects reveal.

Our rebel hearts thy fway disown,
While tyrant luft ufurps thy throne.

The bounteous God of nature made
The fexes for each other's aid,
Their mutual talents to employ,
To leffen ills, and heighten joy.
To weaker woman he affign'd
That foft'ning gentleness of mind,
That can, by fympathy, impart
Its likeness to the roughest heart.
Her eyes with magic pow'r endu'd,
To fire the dull, and awe the rude.
His rofy fingers on her face

Shed lavish every blooming grace,
And ftamp'd (perfection to display)
His mildeft image on her clay.

Man, active, refolute, and bold,
He fashion'd in a different mould,
With useful arts his mind inform'd,
His breast with nobler paffions warm'd ;
He gave him knowledge, taste and sense,
And courage, for the fair's defence.
Her frame, refiftlefs to each wrong,
Demands protection from the ftrong;
To man fhe flies, when fear alarms,
And claims the temple of his arms.

By nature's author thus declar'd The woman's fov'reign, and her guard, Shail man, by treach'rous wiles, invade The weakness, he was meant to aid? While beauty, given to inspire Protecting love, and foft defire, Lights up a wild-fire in the heart, And to its own breast points the dart,

Becomes the spoiler's base pretente
To triumph over innocence?

The wolf, that tears the tim'rous sheep,
Was never fet the fold to keep;
Nor was the tyger, or the pard
Meant the benighted trav'ler's guard;
But man, the wildest beaft of prey,
Wears friendship's femblance, to betray;
His ftrength against the weak employs,
And where he should protect, destroys.

PAST twelve o'clock, the watchman cry`d,
His brief the ftudious lawyer ply'd;
The all-prevailing fee lay nigh,
The earnest of to-morrow's lie.
Sudden the furious winds arife,
The jarring casement shatter'd flies;
The doors admit a hollow found,
And rattling from their hinges bound;
When Justice, in a blaze of light,
Reveal'd her radiant form to fight.

The wretch with thrilling horror shook,
Loose every joint, and pale his look;
Not having feen her in the courts,

Or found her mention'd in Reports,

He afk'd, with falt'ring tongue, her name,
Her errand there, and whence the came?
Sternly the white-rob'd Shade reply'd,
(A crimson glow her vifage dy'd)
Canft thou be doubtful who I am?
Is Justice grown so strange a name?
Were not your courts for Juftice rais'd?
'Twas there, of old, my altars blaz’d.
My guardian thee did I elect,

My facred temple to protect,
That thou, and all thy venal tribe

Should fpurn the goddess for the bribe?

Aloud the ruin'd client cries,

Juftice has neither ears, nor eyes;
In foul alliance with the bar,

'Gainst me the judge denounces war,
And rarely iffues his decree,

But with intent to baffle me.

She paus'd. Her breaft with fury burn'd. The trembling Lawyer thus return'd.

I own the charge is justly laid,
And weak th' excufe that can be made;
Yet fearch the spacious globe, and fee
If all mankind are not like me.

The gown-man, skill'd in Romish lies,
By faith's falfe glass deludes our eyes;
O'er confcience rides without controul
And robs the man to fave his foul.

The doctor, with important face,
By fly defign, mistakes the cafe ;
Prefcribes, and spins out the disease,
To trick the patient of his fees.

The foldier, rough with many a scar,
And red with flaughter, leads the war ;
If he a nation's trust betray,
The foe has offer'd double pay.

When vice o'er all mankind prevails,
And weighty int'rest turns the scales,
Muft I be better than the reft,
And harbour Justice in my breast?
On one fide only take the fee,
Content with poverty and thee?