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Like Orphens burat with public zeal,
To civilize the Monkey weal:
So watch'd occasion, broke his chain,
And sought his native woods again.

The hairy sylvans round him
Astonish'd at his strut and dress.
Some praise his sleeve; and others glote
Upon his rich embroider'd coat;
His dapper perriwig commending,
With the black tail behind depending:
His powder'd back, above, below,
Like hoary frost or fleecy snow;
But all with envy and desire
His flutt'ring shoulder-knot admire.

Hear and improve, he pertly cries;
I come to make a nation wise.

Weigh your own worthy, support your place,
The next in rank to human race.
In cities long I pass'd my days,

Convers'd with inen, and learn'd their ways.
Their dress, their courtly manners see;
Reform your state, and copy me.
Seek ye to thrive? in flatt'ry deal;
Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal.
Seem only to regard your friends,
But use them for your private ends.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit;
Be prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit.
Bend all your force to spatter merit;
Scandal is conversation's spirit.
Boldly to ev'ry thing attend,
And men your talents shall commend.
I knew the great. Observe me right;
So shall you grow like man polite.

As thus he walk'd in musing thought,
His ear imperfect accents taught;
With cautious steps he nearer drew:
By the thick shade conceal'd from view,
High on the branch a Pheasant stood;
Around her all her list'ning brood; -
Proud of the blessings of her nest,
She thus a mother's care express'd:
No dangers here shall circumvent 7
Within the woods enjoy content.
Sooner the hawk or vulture trust
Than Mau, of animals the worst;
In him ingratitude you find;
A vice peculiar to the kind.

The sheep, whose annual fleece is dyed
To guard his health, and serve his pride,
Fore'd from his fold and native plain,
Is in the cruel shambles slain.
The swarms who, with industrious skill,
Ilis hives with wax and honey fil.
In vain whole summer days employ'd,
Their stores are sold, their race destroy'd.
What tribute from the goose is paid !!
Does not her wing all science aid?
Does it not lovers' hearts explain,
And drudge to raise the merchant's gain?
What now rewards this gen'ral use?
He takes the quills, and eats the goose.
Man then avoid, detest his ways;
So safety shall prolong your days.
When services are thas acquitted,
Be sure we Pheasants must be spitted.

He spoke, and bow'd. With nutt'ring jaws $106. FABLE XVI. The Pin and the Needie.

The wond ring circle grinn'd applause.
Now, warm with malice, envy, spite,
Their most obliging friends they bite;
And, fond to copy human ways,
Practice new mischiefs all their days.

Thus the dull Lad, too tall for school,
With travel finishes the fool;
Studious of ev'ry coxcomb's airs,

He drinks, games, dresses, whores, and swears;
O'erlooks with scorn all virtuous arts;
For vice his fitted to his parts.

§ 105. FABLE XV.

The Philosopher and the Pheasants.

THE Sage, awak'd at early day,
Thro' the deep forest took his way;
Drawn by the music of the groves,
Along the winding gloom he roves:
From tree to tree the warbling throats
Prolong the sweet alternate notes.
But where he pass'd he terror threw ;
song broke short, the warblers flew';
The thrushes chatter'd with affright,
And nightingales abhorr'd his sight;
All animals before him ran,

To shun the hateful sight of man.
Whence is this dread of ev'ry creature?

Fly they our figure, or our nature?

A PIN, who long had serv'd a beauty,
Proficient in the toilet's duty,
Had form'd her sleeve, confin'd her hair,
Or given her knot a smarter air,
Now nearest to her heart was plac'd,
Now in her mantua's tail disgrac'd;
But could she partial fortune blame,
Who saw her lover serv'd the same.

At length from all her honors cast,
Through various turns of life she pass'd ;
Now glitter'd on a taylor's arm,
Now kept a beggar's infant warm;
Now, rang'd within a miser's coat,
Contributes to his yearly groat:
Now rais'd again from low approach,
She visits in the doctor's coach!
Here, there, by various fortune tost,
At last in Gretham-hall was lost.
Charm'd with the wonders of the show,
On ev'ry side, above, below,
She now of this or that inquires;
What least was understood admires.
'Tis plain, each thing so struck her mind,
Her head's of virtuoso kind.

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A needle with that filthy stone, Quite idle, all with rust o'ergrown! You better might employ your parts, And aid the sempstress in her arts. But tell me how the friendship grew, Between that paltry flint and you.

Friend, says the Needle, cease to blame;. I follow real worth and fame.

Know'st thou the loadstone's pow'r and art,
That virtue virtues can impart?
Of all his talents I partake;
How can I such a friend forsake!
Tis I direct the pilot's hand

To shun the rocks and treach'rous sand;
By me the distant world is known,
And either India is our own.
Had I with milliners been bred,
What had I been? the guide of thread,
And drudg'd as vulgar needles do,
Of no more consequence than you.

$107. FABLE XVII. The Shepherd's Dog and the Wolf.

A WOLF, with hunger fierce and bold,
Ravag'd the plains, and thinn'd the fold;
Deep in the wood secure he lay;
The thefts of night regal'd the day.
In vain the shepherd's wakeful care
Had spread the toils, and watch'd the snare ;
In vain the Dog pursued his pace,
The fleeter robber mock'd the chace.
As Lightfoot rang'd the forest round,
By chance his foe's retreat he found.
A truce, replies the Wolf. "Tis done,
The Dog the parley thus begun :

How can that strong intrepid mind
Attack a weak defenceless kind?

Those jaws should prey on nobler food,
And drink the boar's and lion's blood;
Great souls with gen'rous pity melt,
Which coward tyrants never felt.
How harmless is our fleecy care!
Be brave, and let thy mercy spare.
Friend, says the Wolf, the matter weigh;
Nature design'd us beasts of prey;
As such, when hunger finds a treat,
"Tis necessary Wolves should eat.
If, mindful of the bleating weal,
Thy bosom burn with real zeal,
Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech;
To him repeat the moving speech:
A Wolf eats sheep but now and then ;
Ten thousands are devour'd by men.
An open foe may prove a curse;
But a pretended friend is worse.

$108. FABLE XVII. The Painter who pleased nobody and every body.

LEST men suspect your tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.

The tray'ller leaping o'er those bounds,
The credit of his book confounds.

Who with his tongue hath armies ranted,
Makes ev'n his real courage doubted:
But flatt'ry never seems absurd,
The flatter'd always take your word
Impossibilities seem just;

They take the strongest praise on trust.
Hyberboles, tho' ne'er so great,
Will still come short of self-conceit.

So very like, a Painter drew,
That ev'ry eye the picture knew;
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So just, the life itself was there.
No flatt'ry with his colors laid,
To bloom restor'd the faded maid;
He gave each muscle all its strength;
The mouth, the chin, the nose's length,
His honest pencil touch'd with truth,
And mark'd the date of age and youth.
He lost his friends, his practice fail'd;
Truth should not always be reveal'd;
In dusty piles his pictures lay,
For no one sent the second pay.
Two bustos, fraught with ev'ry grace,
A Venus and Apollo's face,

He plac'd in view; resolv'd to please
Whoever sat, he drew from these;
From these corrected ev'ry feature,
And spirited each awkward creature.

All things were set; the hour was come,
His pallet ready o'er his thumb,
My Lord appear'd; and, seated right
In proper attitude and light,

The Painter look'd, he sketch'd the piece,
Then dipp'd his pencil, talk'd of Greece.
Of Titian's tints, of Guido's air;
Those eyes, my Lord, the spirit there
Might well a Raphael's hand require,
To give them all the native fire;
The features fraught with sense and wit,
You'll grant, are very hard to hit;
But yet with patience you shall view
As much as paint and art can do.
Observe the work. My Lord replied,
Till now I thought my mouth was wide;
Besides, my nose is somewhat long;
Dear Sir, for me 'tis far too young.

Oh pardon me! the artist cried,
In this the painters must decide.
The piece ev'n common eyes must strike;
I warrant it extremely like.

My Lord examin'd it anew;
No looking-glass seem'd half so true.

A Lady came, with borrow'd grace,
He from his Venus formi'd her face.
Her lover prais'd the Painter's art;
So like the picture in his heart!
To ev'ry age some charm he lent;
Ev'n beauties were almost content.".

Thro' all the town his art they prais'd; His custom grew, his price was fais'd. Had he the real likeness shown, Would any man the picture own? But when thus happily he wrought, Each found the likeness in his thought. 11 2 § 109. FABL

$109. FABLE XIX, The Lion and the Cub.
How fond are men of rule and place,
Who court it from the mean and base!
These cannot bear an equal nigh,
But from superior merit fly.
They love the cellar's vulgar joke,
And lose their hours in ale and smoke,
There o'er some petty club preside;
So poor, so paltry is their pride!
Nay, ev'n with fools whole nights will sit,
In hopes to be supreme in wit.
If these can read, to these I write,
To set their worth in truest light.
A Lion-cub, of sordid mind,
Avoided all the lion-kind;
Fond of applause he sought the feasts
Of vulgar and ignoble beasts;
With asses all his time he spent ;
Their club's perpetual president,
He caught their manners, looks, and airs;
An ass in ev'ry 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 !
Good gods! how natural he brays!

Elate with flatt'ry and conceit,
He seeks his royal sire's retreat;
Forward, and fond to show his parts,
His highness brays; the lion starts:
Puppy! that curs'd vociferation
Betrays thy life and conversation:
Coxcombs, an ever-noisy race,
Are trumpets of their own disgrace.
Why so severe? the Cub replies;
Our senate always held me wise.

How weak is pride! returns the sire;
All fools are vain when fools admire!
But know, what stupid asses prize,
Lions and noble beasts despise.

§ 110. FABLE XX. The old Hen and the Cock.
RESTRAIN your child; you'll soon believe
The text which says, We sprung from Eve.'
As an old Hen led forth her train,
And seem'd to peck to show the grain;
She rak'd the chaff, she scratch'd the ground,
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 sorrow was possest.

A Cock she met; her son she knew,
And in her heart affection grew.

My son, says she, I grant your years
Have reach'd beyond a mother's cares,
I see you vig'rous, strong, 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; the fatal place
Is sure perdition to our race.
Print this my counsel on thy breast:
To the just gods I leave the rest..

He thank'd her care; yet day by day
His bosom burn'd to disobey;
And ev'ry time the well he saw,
Scorn'd in his heart the foolish law:
Near and more near each day he drew,
And long'd to try the dang'rous view.

Why was this idle charge? he cries;
Let courage female fears despise.
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 she thus my search prevent?
I stand resolv'd, and dare th' event.

Thus said, he mounts the margin's round,
And pries into the depth profound.
He stretch'd his neck; and from below
With stretching neck advanc'd a foe:
With wrath his ruffled plumes he rears,
The foe with ruffled plumes appears:
Threat answer'd threat; his fury grew;
Headlong to meet the war he flew;
But when the wat'ry death he found,
He thus lamented as he drown'd:

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

$111. FABLE XXI. The Rat-Catcher and Catr
THE rats by night such mischief did,
Betty was ev'ry morning chid:

They undermin'd whole sides of bacon ;
Her cheese was sapp'd, her tarts were taken ;
Her pasties, fenc'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 constant booty.
An Engineer of noted skill
Engag'd to stop the growing ill.

From room to room he now surveys
Their haunts, their works, their secret ways,
And whence the nightly sally's made.
Finds where they 'scape an ambuscade,

An envious Cat from place to place,
Unseen attends his silent pace.
She saw that, if his trade went on,
The purring race must be undone;
So secretly removes his baits,
And ev'ry stratagem defeats.

Again he sets the poison'd toils,
And Puss again the labor foils.

What foe (to frustrate my designs)
My schemes thus nightly countermines ?"
Incens'd, he cries: "this very


"The wretch shall bleed beneath my pow'r."
So said -a pond'rous trap he brought,
And in the fact Puss was caught.
Smuggler," says he," thou shalt be made
"A victim to our loss of trade."
The captive Cat, with piteous mews,
For pardon, life, and freedom sues.
"A sister of the science spare;
"One int'rest is our common care."

"What insolence !" the man replied;
"Shall Cats with us.the game divide?



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"Were all your interloping band "Extinguish'd, or expell'd the land, "We Rat-catchers unight raise our fees, "Sole guardians of a nation's cheese!" A Cat, who saw the lifted knife, Thus spoke, and sav'd her sister's life: In ev'ry age and clime we see, Two of a trade can ne'er agree.

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'Each hates his neighbour for encroaching; Squire stigmatises "squire for poaching; Beauties with beauties are in arms,

And scandal pelts each other's charms;
Kings too their neighbour kings dethrone,
In hope to make the world their own.
But let us limit our desires;

Not war like beauties, kings, and 'squires ;
For tho' we both one prey pursue,
There's game enough for us and you.' `

§112. FABLE XXII. The Goat without a Beard.
'Tis certain that the modish passions
Descend among the crowd, like fashions.
Excuse me, then, if pride, conceit
(The manners of the fair and great),
I give to monkeys, asses, hogs,
Fleas, owls, goats, butterflies, and dogs.
say that these are proud: what then?
I never said they equal men.

A Goat (as vain as Goat can be)
Affected singularity.

Whene'er a thymy bank he found,
He roll'd upon the fragrant ground;
And then with fond attention stood,
Fix'd o'er his image in the flood.

"I hate my frowsy beard," he cries; "My youth is lost in this disguise.

Did not the females know my vigor, "Well might they loath this rev'rend figure." Resolv'd to smooth his shaggy face, He sought the barber of the place. A flippant monkey, spruce and smart, Hard by profess'd the dapper art; His pole with pewter basons hung; Black rotten teeth in order strupg; Rang'd cups that in the window stood, Lin'd with red rags, to look like blood, Did well his threefold trade explain: Who shav'd, drew teeth, and breath'd a vein. The Goat he welcomes with an air, And seats him in his wooden chair: Mouth, nose, and check the lather hides ; Light, smooth, and swift, the razor glides.

I hope your custom, sir,' says pug; Sore never face was half so smug.' The Goat, impatient for applause, Swift to the neighb'ring hill withdraws; The shaggy people grinn'd and star'd: Heighday! what's here, without a beard? Say, brother, whence the dire disgrace? What envious hand hath robb'd your face?' -When thus the fop, with smiles of scorn: "Are beards by civil nations worn? Een Muscovites have mow'd their chins. Shall we, like formal Capuchins,

Stubborn in pride, retain the mode,
And bear about the hairy load?
Whene'er we through the village stray,
Are we not moek'd along the way,
Insulted with loud shouts of scorn,
By boys our beards disgrac'd and torn?"
Were you no more with Goats to dwell,
Brother, I grant you reason well,'
Replies a bearded chief. - Beside,
If boys can mortify thy pride,
How wilt thou stand the ridicule
Of our whole flock? Affected fool!
Coxcombs distinguish'd from the rest,
To all but coxcombs are a jest.'


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The Old Woman

and her Cats. WHO friendship with a knave hath made, Is judg'd a partner in the trade. The matron who conducts abroad A willing nymph, is thought a bawd; And if a modest girl is seen With one who cures a lover's spleen, We guess her not extremely nice, And only wish to know her price. "Tis thus that on the choice of friends Our good or evil name depends.

A wrinkled Hag, of wicked fame,
Beside a little smoky flame

Sat hov'ring, pinch'd with age and frost;
Her shrivell'd hands, with veins embost,
Upon her knees her weight sustains,
While palsy shook her crazy brains:
She mumbles forth her backward pray'rs,
An untam'd scold of fourscore years.
About her swarm'd a nun'rous brood
Of Cats, who lank with hunger mew'd.
Teas'd with their cries, her choler grew;
And thus she sputter'd: Hence, ye crew!

Fool that I was, to entertain
Such imps, such fiends, a hellish train;
Had ye been never hous'd and nurs'd,
I for a witch had ne'er been curs'd.


you I owe that crowds of boys Worry me with eternal noise; Straws laid across my pace retard;

The horse-shoe's nail'd (each threshold's guard),'
The stunted broom the wenches hide,
For fear that I should up and ride;
They stick with pins my bleeding seat,
And bid me show my secret teat.'

"To hear you prate would vex a saint:
Who hath most reason of complaint?”
Replies a Cat. "Let's come to proof.
Had we ne'er starv'd beneath your roof,
We had, like others of our race,
In credit liv'd, as beasts of chace.
"Tis infamy to serve a hag;

Cats are thought imps, her broom a nag;
And boys against our lives combine,
Because 'tis said your cats have nine."

§ 114. FABLE XXIV. The Butterfly and Snail. ALL upstarts insolent in place

Remind us of their vulgar race.

As, in the sun-shine of the morn,
A Butterfly but newly born
Sat proudly perking on a rose,
With pert conceit his bosom glows;
His wings, all glorious to behold,
Bedropt with azure, jet, and gold,
Wide he displays; the spangled dew
Reflects his eyes, and various hue.

His now-forgotten friend, a Snail,
Beneath his house, with slimy trail,
Crawls o'er the grass; whom when he spies,
In wrath he to the gard'ner cries:

"What means yon peasant's daily toil, From choking weeds to rid the soil? Why wake you to the morning's care? Why with new arts correct the year? Why glows the peach with crimson hue? And why the plum's inviting blue? Were they to feast his taste design'd, That vermin of voracious kind? Crush then the slow, the pilf'ring race; So purge thy garden from disgrace."

What arrogance!' the Snail replied;
How insolent is upstart pride!
Mad thou not thus, with insult vain,
Provok'd my patience to complain,
I had conceal'd thy meaner birth,
Nor trac'd thee to the scum of earth.
For scarce nine suns had wak'd the hours,
To swell the fruit and paint the flow'rs,
Since I thy humbler life survey'd,
In base and sordid guise array'd;
A hideous insect, vile, unclean,
You dragg'd a slow and noisome train;
And from your spider-bowels drew
Foul film, and spun the dirty clue.
I own my humble life, good friend;
Snail was I born, and Snail shall end.
And what's a Butterfly? At best
He's but a caterpillar drest;

And all thy race (a num'rous seed)
Shall prove of caterpillar breed.'

§ 115. FABLE XXV. The Scold and the Parrot

THE husband thus reprov'd his wife; "Who deals in slander lives in strife. Art thou the herald of disgrace, Denouncing war to all thy race? Can nothing quell thy thunder's rage, Which spares no friend, nor sex, nor age? That vixen tongue of yours, my dear, Alarms our neighbours far and near. Good gods! 'tis like a rolling river, That nurm'ring flows, and flows for ever! Ne'er tir'd, perpetual discord sowing! Like fame, it gathers strength by going." Heighday! the flippant tongue replies, How solemn is the fool, how wise! Is nature's choicest gift debarr'd? Nay, frown not, for I will be heard. Women of late are finely ridden; A parrot's privilege forbidden!

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You praise his talk, his squalling song; But wives are always in the wrong.'

Now reputations flew in pieces, Of mothers, daughters, aunts, and nieces; She ran the parrot's language o'er, Bawd, hussy, drunkard, slattern, whore; On all the sex she vents her fury; Tries and condemns without a jury.

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At once the torrent of her words Alarm'd cat, monkey, dogs, and birds; All join their forces to confound her; Puss spits, the monkey chatters round her The yelping cur her heels assaults; The magpye blabs out all her faults; Poll, in the uproar, from his cage, With this rebuke out-scream'd her rage: "A Parrot is for talking prizid, But prattling women are despis'd. She who attacks another's honor Draws ev'ry living thing upon her. Think, madam, when you stretch your lungs, That all your neighbours too have tongues. One slander must ten thousand get; The world with int'rest pays the debt.”

$116. FABLE XXVI. The Cur and the Mastiff.
A SNEAKING Cur, the master's spy,
Rewarded for his daily lie,

With secret jealousies and fears
Set all together by the cars.
Poor Puss to-day was in disgrace,
Another cat supplied her place;

The Hound was beat, the Mastiff chid ;
The Monkey was the room forbid :
Each to his dearest friend grew shy,
And none could tell the reason why.

A plan to rob the house was laid:
The thief with love seduc'd the maid
Cajol'd the Cur, and strok'd his head,`
And bought his secrecy with bread.
He next the Mastiff's honor tried;
Whose honest jaws the bribe defied.
He stretch'd his hand to proffer more ;
The surly dog his fingers tore.

Swift ran the Cur; with indignation The master took his information.

Hang him, the villain's curst, he cries

And round his neck the halter ties.

The Dog his humble suit preferr'd,
And begg'd in justice to be heard.
The master sat. On either hand
The cited Dogs confronting stand.
The Cur the bloody tale relates,
And, like a lawyer, aggravates.

Judge not unheard, the Mastiff cried,
But weigh the cause of either side.
Think not that treach'ry can be just;
Take not informers' words on trust.
They ope their hand to ev'ry pay,
And you and me by turns betray.

He spoke; and all the truth appear'd:
The Cur was hang'd, the Mastiff clear'd.

FABLE XXVII. The Sick Man and
the Angel.

Is there no hope? the sick Man said;
The silent doctor shook his head,


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