ONCE on a time, when great Sir Oak
Held all the trees beneath his yoke,
The monarch, anxious to maintain,
In peaceful state, his sylvan reign,
Saw, to his sorrow and distraction,
His subject trees take root in faction,
And, though late join'd in union hearty,
Now branching into shoots of party,
Each sturdy stick of factious wood
Stood stiff and stout for public good:
For patriots ever, 'tis well known,
Seek others welfare, not their own,
And all they undertake, you know,
Is meant pro bono publico.
The hardy Fir, from northern earth
Who took its name, and drew its birth,
The Oak plac'd next him to support
His government, and grace his court.
The Fir, of an uncommon size,
Rear'd his tall head unto the skies,
O'er-topp'd his fellow-plants, his height
Who view'd, and sicken'd at the sight:
With envy ev'ry fibre swell'd,
While in them the proud sap rebell'd;
"Shall then," they cried, "the Ash, the Elm,
The Beech, no longer rule the helm ?
What! shall the ignoble Fir, a plant,
In tempest born, and nurs'd in want,
Far from black regions of the north,
And native famine, issue forth;
In this our happier soil take root,
And dare our birthright to dispute?'
On this the fatal storm began,
Confusion thro' the forest ran;
Mischief in each dark shade was brewing,
And all betoken'd general ruin :
While each, to make their party good,
Brib'd the vile shrubs and underwood:
And now the Bramble and the Thistle
Sent forth essay, ode, epistle;
To which anon, with equal mettle,
Replied the Thorn and stinging Nettle.
"What's to be done, or how oppose
The storm which in the forest rose?"
Grief shook the mighty monarch's mind,
And his sighs labour'd in the wind.
At length, the tumult, strife, and quarrel, Alarming the sagacious Laurel,
His mind unto the King he broke,
And thus addrest him: "Heart of Oak!
Sedition is on foot, make ready;
And fix your empire firm and steady.
Faction in vain shall shake the wood,
While you pursue the general good.
Fear not a foe, trust not a friend,
Upon yourself alone depend.
If not too partially ally'd,
By fear or love to either side,
In vain shall jarring factions strive,
Cabals in vain dark plots contrive.
Slave to no foe, dupe to no minion,
Maintain an equal just dominion:
So shall you stand by storms unbroke,
And all revere the ROYAL OAK."
HEN toilsome hours of day were spent,
The world seem'd wrapt in calm content,
Each anxious care forsook the breast,
Sleep gently clos'd each eye to rest,
Cynthia her brightest aspect wore,
And Heav'n's expanse was studded o'er,
A sage, by meditation drawn,
Forsook his cot, and sought the lawn;
In contemplation deep he stray'd,
And nature's dozing charms survey'd ;
On either hand new beauties view'd,
As he his tranquil walk pursu'd.
By chance, a Glow-Worm, in his way,
Shone forth his little glitt'ring ray,
Proudly unfolding ev'ry grace,
As trailing round from place to place;
Illumining the moss-fring'd plain,
On other worms he look'd disdain.
The sage, with philosophic eye,
Survey'd the wand'rer crawling by;
Then stooping low, with gentle hand,
High lifts him from the dew-fraught land.
The grub, tho' not dismay'd thro' fear,
Conscious he was not in his sphere,
Withdrew his beam of light away,
To hear what man-vain man-would say.
The learn'd Philosopher, amaz'd,
Paus'd for some time, and anxious gaz'd;
Astonish'd that the worm should die
So soon, then careless threw it by;
But first, this application made :—
"This creeping reptile, lo! is dead,
And with his life, his glory's fled.
So is 't with all ambition's race,
Who fill up each exalted place:
Brilliant they shine with borrow'd ray,
And wanton in the blaze of day,
'Till fortune's second wheel turns round,
And leaves them where they first were found."
The Glow-Worm with attention heard,
And weigh'd with prudence ev'ry word,
Trim'd bright his little lamp again,
And shone more beauteous o'er the plain;
Then thus address'd the wond'ring sage,
The known Philos'pher of the age:
"Know thou, the happy pow'r to shine
Is truly man's as well as mine;
I know my sphere, did he the same,
He'd tread that path that leads to fame;
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