Did he in dang'rous times retire,
And check with care ambition's fire,
Like me he might new lustre spread,
And deck with laurels fresh his head.
But, coxcomb like, he's led astray
To shine, and shines but for a day."
The Angler and the Philosopher.
ESIDE a gentle murm'ring brook An Angler took his patient stand; He ey'd the stream with anxious look, And wav'd his rod with cautious hand.
The bait with nicest art was drest,
The fishes left their safe retreat;
And one more eager than the rest,
Look'd, long'd, and swallow'd the deceit.
Too late she felt the poignant smart,
Her pitying friends her fate deplore;
The Angler with well-practis'd art,
Play'd, hook'd, and drew her to the shore.
Lur'd by the beauty of the day,
The sun now sinking in the sky, A sage pursu'd his walk that way, And saw the bleeding victim lie.
Far in the vale of years declin'd,
He watch'd the course of nature's law;
And thus with philosophic mind,
He moralis'd on what he saw:
"Indulge, awhile, the pensive vein,
And fix this image in your mind;
You've hook'd a fish; observe its pain,
And view the state of human kind.
"Fate gives us line, we shift the scene,
And jocund traverse to and fro;
Pain, sickness, still will intervene,
We feel the hook where'er we go.
"If, proudly, we our schemes extend,
And look beyond the present hour,
We find our straiten'd prospects end,
And own an over-ruling pow'r.
"Awhile we sport, awhile lament,
Fate checks the line, and we are gone; Dragg'd from our wonted element,
To distant climes, untry'd, unknown."
Just ent'ring on his savage reign,
To grace his coronation feast,
Sent and invited every beast;
And soon the royal cave beheld
With all his various subjects fill'd:
For leagues of peace were lately made,
And lambs and wolves together play'd;
Foxes and tim'rous hares agree
With dogs, their common enemy:
And now a sumptuous table spread,
Friendly they altogether fed;
And having din'd, sit still and prate
Familiarly of this and that:
Till with a kind, yet serious look,
The King, desiring audience, spoke.
'My friends, and loving subjects all,
Who've kindly thus obey'd my call,
I give you thanks, and now I crave
Your further kindness to receive:
I'm seated on the throne, you see,
In peaceable tranquillity;
No cares of war disturb my breast;
With taxes you are not opprest ;
This life I'll therefore spend in joy ;
None shall be happier than I.
But lest I should pursue false bliss,
What I would ask of you is this,
To tell me what true pleasure is?"
The beasts seem'd pleas'd with this request;
Each thought he could advise him best,
And striving who should silence break,
They all at once rose up to speak :
Till by his majesty's command,
Their forward zeal was soon restrain'd;
Who calmly bidding them sit down,
And let him hear them one by one,
Th' impatient Monkey thus began :
"Pleasure, my liege, is free from strife,
To lead a thoughtless, easy life;
Airy, and wild, and brisk, and gay,
To sing, and dance, and laugh, and play;
Now following this, now that, and that,
And so't be new, no matter what;
Free from all rules of just and fit,
Do mischief first, then laugh at it:
This is diversion, pleasure, wit."
The Ass was here provok'd to rise,
And gravely thus bray'd his advice:
"If," said he, "real pleasure is
In such buffoonery as this,
Then beaux and smarts, amongst mankind,
Are in their notions most refin'd;
But well we know, by men of sense,
They 're tax'd with vain impertinence.
I therefore think true pleasure lies
(If I may be thought fit t' advise)
In careless indolence and ease,
Not suff'ring anything to tease,
Regardless what th' ambitious fly at,
So we're but undisturb'd and quiet;
Well knowing 'tis but to attain
More ease, that they're at so much pain.
And he's more happy, none can doubt it,
Who's easy without taking pains about it."
Now rose the Hog, and with a grunt,
"Pleasure," cry'd he, "they know nought on't.
A life trail'd on in laziness
Can only suit a stupid Ass,
And fool'd away in Monkey mirth,
It's really full as little worth;
For doing nothing worthy fame
And doing nothing's much the same.
But if you'd real pleasure know,
Let generous liquor smiling flow;
In jovial crews spend every hour,
And drink, and sing, and rant, and roar :
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