On his increasing strength presumes,
And pleas'd he shakes his alter'd plumes,
To single combat dares the foe,
And deep imprints the fatal blow.
The Kite expires,—and peace again
Reviv'd to bless Columbo's reign.

But flush'd with conquest, proud in arms,
He longs, he pants, for fresh alarms,
And to himself elated thought-
"Had I these gifts of Jove for nought?"
Now swelling high with proud disdain,
He scorns his meek, his peaceful train;
A thousand wives the monarch claims,
And seizes all their fairest dames;
A thousand slaves attend his will,
A thousand nests his treasures fill;
None for themselves eat, sleep, or love,
'Tis all the King's-imperial Dove!
Too noble grown for common food,
He longs to taste of pigeon's blood;
Nor long the appetite withstood.
With treble anguish now they moan
A wide destroyer on their throne,
Despairing drag the galling chain,
And vainly curse Columbo's reign.

This fatal change let man informed pursue,
Catch rising truths from every fabled view,
And learn from hence no dang'rous pow'r to trust,
E'en with the wise, the gentle, and the just.
Since e'en that pow'r less prompts to good than ill,
And bends to vice vain man's unequal will-
Wrongs to redress ne'er arm alone your friend,
But, cloth'd in equal might, his steps attend ;

Let equal arms your injur'd rights maintain, Divide the strength, the labours, honours, gain : Still on a level, tho' with conquest bright,

No traitor thoughts shall rise from matchless might: Peace with her genuine charms shall either bless," And just dependencies prevent excess.

FABLE X.

The Camelion.

FT has it been my lot to mark

OF

A proud, conceited, talking spark,
With eyes, that hardly serv'd at most
To guard their master 'gainst a post,

Yet round the world the blade has been
To see whatever could be seen.

Returning from his finish'd tour,
Grown ten times perter than before,

Whatever word you chance to drop, The travell'd fool your mouth will stop; Sir, if my judgment you'll allow— I've seen and sure I ought to know"So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision.

Two travellers of such a cast,
As o'er Arabia's wild they past,
And on their way in friendly chat
Now talk'd of this, and then of that,
Discours'd a while 'mongst other matter,
Of the Camelion's form and nature.
"A stranger animal," cries one,

"6 Sure never liv'd beneath the sun :
A lizard's body lean and long,
A fish's head, a serpent's tongue;
Its tooth with triple claw disjoin'd;
And what a length of tail behind!
How slow its pace, and then its hue-
Who ever saw so fine a blue?"

"Hold there," the other quick replies, "'Tis green-I saw it with these eyes, As late with open mouth it lay, And warm'd itself in sunny ray; Stretch'd at its ease the beast I view'd, And saw it eat the air for food."

"I've seen it, sir, as well as you,
And must again affirm it blue :
At leisure I the beast survey'd,
Extended in the cooling shade."

"'Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure ye." "Green!" cries the other in a fury.

"Why, sir-d'ye think I've lost my eyes?" "'Twere no great loss," the friend replies; "For, if they always serve you thus, You'll find 'em but of little use."

So high at last the contest rose,
From words they almost came to blows:
When luckily came by a third-
To him the question they refer'd;
And begg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew,
.Whether the thing was green or blue.

"Sirs," cries the umpire, " cease your pother-
The creature's neither one nor t'other.
I caught the animal last night,
And view'd it o'er by candle light:
I mark'd it well-'twas black as jet-
You stare-but, sirs, I've got it yet,
And can produce it." "Pray, sir, do:
I'll lay my life, the thing is blue."
"And I'll be sworn, that when you
The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."

've seen

"Well, then, at once to ease the doubt,"
Replies the man, "I'll turn him out :
And when before your eyes I've set him,
If you don't find him black, I'll eat him."
He said; then full before their sight
Produc'd the beast, and lo! 'twas white.
Both star'd, the man look'd wondrous wise-

"My children," the Camelion cries,

Then first the creature found a tongue,

"You all are right, and all are wrong:

When next you talk of what you view,
Think others see, as well as you :

THE

Least willing still to quit the ground; 'Twas therefore said by ancient sages, That love of life increas'd with years: So much, that in our latter stages, When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, The greatest love of life appears.

This great affection to believe, Which all confess, but few perceive, If old assertions can't prevail,

Be pleas'd to hear a modern tale.