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FABLES 
BY  JOHN  GAY, 

IN  TWO  PARTS; 

TO  WHICH  ARE   ADDED 

FABLES 

BY  EDWARD  MOORE. 


STEREOTYPE  EDITION, 

According  to  the  process  of  I'irmin  Didot. 


^ 


PARIS, 

AT  THE  PRIKTING  OFFICE    AND  STEREOTYPE  FOUIfDKRT 

OF  P.  DIDOT  THE  ELDER  ,  AND   OF  F.  DIDOT. 

I8l3. 


^ 


J 


*'V*^,*/V%**'*'*^« 


INTRODUCTIOlNr 


TO    THE 


FABLES. 

PART  THE  FIRST. 


THE  SHEPHERD  AND  THE  PHILOSOPHER. 

JAemote  from  cities  liv'd  a  swain, 
Unvex'd  with  all  the  cares  of  gain  ; 
His  head  was  silver'd  o'er  with  age, 
And  long  experience  made  him  sage  ; 
In  summer's  heat,  and  winter's  cold. 
He  fed  his  flock,  and  penn'd  the  fold  : 
His  hours  in  cheerful  labour  flew. 
Nor  envy  nor  ambition  knew  : 
His  wisdom  and  his  honest  fame 
Through  all  the  country  rais'd  his  n^nme. 

^  deep  philosopher  (  whose  rules 
Of  moral  life  were  drawn  from  schools) 
The  shepherd's  homely  cottage  songht. 
And  thus  explor'd  his  reach  of  thought  : 

Whence  is  thy  learning?  Hath  thy  toil 
O'er  books  consum'd  the  midnight  oil? 

X. 


INTRODUCTION. 
Hast  thou  old  Greece  and  Rome  survey 'd, 
And  the  vast  sense  of  Plato  weigh'd? 
Hath  Socrates  thy  soul  refin'd, 
And  hast  thou  fathom'd  TuUy's  mind  ? 
Or,  like  the  wise  Ulysses,  thrown, 
By  various  fates,  on  realms  unknown. 
Hast  thou  through  various  cities  stray'd, 
Their  customs,  laws,  and  manners  weigh'd  .-^ 

The  shepherd  modestly  reply'd, 
I  ne'er  the  paths  of  learning  try'd ; 
Nor  have  I  roam'd  in  foreign  parts. 
To  read  mankind,  their  laws,  and  arts; 
Por  man  is  practis'd  to  disguise, 
He  cheats  the  most  discerning  eyes; 
Who  by  that  search  shall  wiser  grow, 
When  we  ourselves  can  never  know  ? 
The  little  knowledge  I"have  gain'd 
Was  all  from  simple  Nature  drain'd  ; 
Hence  my  life's  maxims  took  their  rise  ; 
Hence  grew  ray  settled  hate  to  vice. 

The  daily  labours  of  the  bee 
Awake  my  soul  to  industry. 
Who  can  observe  the  careful  ant,  # 

And  not  provide  for  future  want  ? 
BIy  dog  (  the  trnstiost  of  his  kind  ) 
With  gratitude  inflames  my  mind  ; 
I  inark  his  true,  his  fuitliful  way, 
A-nd  ip  my  service  copy  Tiay- 


INTRODUCTION. 
In  constancy  and  nuptial  love, 
I  learn  my  duty  from  tlie  dove. 
The  hen,  who,  from  the  chilly  air, 
With  pious  wing  protects  her  care; 
And  ev'ry  fowl  that  flies  at  large 
Instructs  me  in  a  parent's  charge. 

From  Nature  too  I  take  my  rule,  r 

To  shun  contempt  and  ridicule. 
I  never,  with  important  air, 
In  conversation  overbear. 
Can  grave  and  formal  pass  for  wise, 
When  men  the  solemn  owl  despise  .** 
My  tongue  within  my  lips  I  rein  ; 
For  who  talks  much  must  talk  in  vain. 
We  from  the  wordy  torrent  fly : 
Who  listens  to  the  chatt'ring  pye .'' 
Nor  would  I,  with  felonious  slight, 
By  stealth  invade  my  neighbour's  right. 
Rapacious  animals  we  hate : 
Kites,  hawks,  and  wolves,  deserve  their  fate. 
Do  not  we  just  abhorrence  find 
Against  the  toad  and  serpent  kind.^ 
But  envy,  calumny,  and  spite. 
Bear  stronger  malice  in  their  bite. 
.Thus,  ev'ry  object  of  creation 
Can  furnish  hints  to  contemplation  ; 
And,  from  the  most  minute  and  mean, 
A  yirtaotts  mind  can  morals  gleau . 


INTRODUCTION. 

Thy  fame  is  just,  the  sage  replies; 
Thy  virtue  proves  thee  truly  wise. 
Pride  often  guides  the  author's  pen  ; 
Books  as  affected  are  as  men  : 
Rut  he  who  studies  Nature's  laws 
From  certain  truth  his  maxims  draws; 
And  those,  without  our  schools,  suffice 
To  make  men  moral,  good,  and  wise. 


FABLES 
BY  JOHN  GAY. 

PART  THE  FIRST. 


«/»/'V%'«/«.« 


TO    HIS    HIGHNESS 

WILLIAM, 

DURE  OF  CUMBERLAND. 


FABLE    L  i 

THE   LION,   THE  TYGER  ,    AND  THE  TRAVELLER.  I 

i 


xxccEPT,  young  prince,  the  moral  lay, 
And  in  these  tales  mankind  survey  ; 
With  early  virtues  plant  your  breast, 
The  specious  arts  of  vice  detest. 

Princes,  like  beauties,  from  their  youth 
Are  strangers  to  the  voice  of  truth  ; 
Learn  to  contemn  all  praise  betimes  ; 
For  flattery's  the  nurse  of  crimes. 
Friendship  by  sweet  reproof  is  shown, 
(A  virtue  never  near  a  throne  ;) 
In  courts  such  freedom  must  offend ; 
There  none  presumes  to  be  a  friend. 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 

To  those  of  your  exalted  station 

Each  courtier  is  a  dedication. 

Must  I  too  flatter  like  the  rest, 

And  turn  my  morals  to  a  jest  ? 

The  muse  disdains  to  steal  from  those 

Who  thrive  in  courts  hy  iulsome  prose. 

But  shall  I  hide  your  real  praise, 
Or  tell  you  what  a  nation  says  .►• 
They  in  your  infant-bosom  trace 
The  virtues  of  your  royal  race : 
In  the  fair  dawning  of  your  mind 
Discern  you  gen'rous,  mild,  and  kind, 
They  see  you  grieve  to  hear  distress, 
And  pant  already  to  redress. 
Go  on  :  the  height  of  good  attain, 
Wor  let  a  nation  hope  in  vain : 
For  hence  we  justly  may  presage 
The  virtues  of  a  riper  age. 
True  courage  shall  your  bosom  fire, 
And  future  actions  own  your  sire. 
Cowards  are  cruel :  but  the  brave 
Love  mercy,  and  delight  to  save. 

A  tyger,  roaming  for  his  prey, 
Sprung  on  a  trav'ler  in  the  way; 
The  prostrate  game  a  lion  spies, 
And  on  the  greedy  tyrant  flies ; 
With  mingled  roar  resounds  the  wood; 
Their  teeth,  their  claws  distil  with  blood; 
Till  vanquish'd  by  the  lion's  strength 
The  spotted  foe  extends  his  length. 
The  man  besought  the  shaggy  lord, 
And  on  his  knees  for  life  implor'd. 
His  life  the  gen'rous  hero  gave. 
Together  walking  to  his  cave, 
The  lion  thus  bespoke  his  guest : 
What  hardy  beast  sliall  dare  contest 


PART  THE  FIRST.  n 

My  matchless  strength  !  You  saw  the  fight, 
And  must  attest  my  pow'r  and  right ; 
Forc'd  to  forego  their  native  home. 
My  starving  slaves  at  distance  roam. 
Withlu  these  woods  I  reign  alone. 
The  boundless  forest  is  my  own. 
Bears,  wolves,  and  all  the  savage  brood, 
Have  died  the  regal  den  Vvith  blood. 
These  carcasses  on  either  hand, 
Those  bones  that  whiten  all  the  land, 
My  former  deeds  and  triumphs  tell, 
Beneath  these  jaws  what  numbers  fell. 

True,  says  the  man,  the  strength  I  saw 
Might  well  the  brutal  nation  awe  : 
But  shall  a  monarch,  brave  like  you, 
Place  glory  in  so  false  a  view.* 
Robbers  invade  their  neighbour's  right. 
Be  iov'd:  let  justice  bound  your  might. 
Mean  are  amb:tioos  heroes'  boasts 
Of  wasted  lands  and  slaughter'd  hosts. 
Pirates  their  povv'r  by  murders  gain. 
Wise  kings  by  love  and  mercy  reign. 
To  me  your  clemency  hath  shown 
The  virtue  worthy  of  a  throne. 
Heav'n  gives  you  pow'r  above  the  rest, 
Like  heav'n,  to  succour  the  distrest. 

The  case  is  plain,  the  monarch  said  : 
False  glory  hath  my  youth  misled  ; 
For  beasts  of  prey,  a  servile  train, 
Have  been  the  flatterers  of  my  reign. 
You  reason  well.  Yet  tell  me,  friend. 
Did  ever  you  in  courts  attend  ? 
For  all  my  fawning  rogues  agree 
That  human  heroes  rule  lik«  me. 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 


FABLE  II. 

•          THE    SPANlEIi    AND    THE    CAMELEOX. 

A.  SPANIEL,  bred  with  all  the  care 
That  waits  upon  a  fav'rite  heir, 
Ne'er  felt  correction's  rigid  hand  : 
Indulg'd  to  disobey  command, 
In  pamper'd  ease  his  hours  were  spent ; 
He  never  knew  what  learning  meant. 
Such  forward  airs,  so  pert,  so  smart, 
Were  sure  to  win  his  lady's  heart ; 
Each  little  mischief  gain'd  him  praise; 
How  pretty  were  his  fawning  ways  J 

The  wind  was  south,  the  morning  fair, 
He  ventures  forth  to  take  the  air : 
He  ranges  all  the  meadow  round. 
And  rolls  upon  the  softest  ground  : 
When  near  him  a  cameleon  seen 
Was  scarce  distinguish'd  from  the  green  : 

Dear  emblem  of  the  flatt'riu^  host. 
What,  live  with  clowns  !  a  genius  lost ! 
To  cities  and  the  court  repair; 
A  fortune  cannot  fail  thee  there  : 
Preferment  shall  thy  talents  crown. 
Believe  me,  friend :  I  know  the  town. 

Sir,  says  the  sycophant,  like  you, 
Of  old,  politer  life  I  knew  : 
Like  you,  a  courtier  born  and  bred, 
Kings  lean'd  their  ear  to  what  I  said. 
My  whisper  always  met  success  ; 
The  ladies  prais'd  me  for  address. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  i3 

I  knew  to  hit  each  courtier's  passion, 
Aud  flatter'd  ev'ry  vice  in  fashion : 
But  Jove,  who  hates  the  liar's  ways, 
At  once  cut  short  my  prosp'rous  days ; 
And,  seutencd  to  retain  ray  n-ature, 
Transform'd  me  to  this  crawhnaj  creature; 
Doom'd  to  a  life  obscure  and  mean, 
I  wander  in  the  sylvan  scene. 
For  Jove  the  heart  alone  regards ; 
He  punishes  what  man  rewards. 
How  diff 'rent  is  thy  case  and  mine .' 
With  men  at  least  you  sup  and  dine; 
While  I,  condemn'd  to  .thinnest  fare, 
Like  those  I  flatter'd  feed  on  air. 


FABLE   III. 

THE   MOTHER,    THE   WrRSE  ,   AND   THE   FAIRY. 


ijivE  me  a  son-  The  blessing  sent. 
Were  ever  parents  more  content.? 
How  partial  are  their  doating  eyes  .' 
No  child  is  half  so  fair  and  wise. 

Wak'd  to  the  morning's  pleasing  care, 
The  Mother  rose,  and  sought  her  heir. 
She  saw  the  nurse,  like  one  possess'd. 
With  wringing  hands,  and  sobbing  breast. 

Sure  some  disaster  has  befel : 
Speak,  nurse  ;  I  hope  the  boy  is  well. 

Dear  madam,  think  not  me  to  blame  ; 
Invisible  the  fairy  came  : 
Your  precious  babe  is  hence  convey'd, 
And  in  the  place  a  changebng  laid. 


14  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

Where  are  the  father's  mouth  and  nose, 
The  mother's  eyes,  as  biack  as  sloes  ? 
See  here,  a  shocking  aukward  creature, 
That  speaks  a  fool  in  every  feature ! 

The  woman's  bUnd ,  the  mother  cries ; 
I  see  wit  sparkling  in  his  eyes. 

Lord !  madam,  what  a  squinting  leer  J  • 
No  doubt  the  fairy  hath  been  here. 

Just  as  she  spoke,  a  pigmy  sprite 
Pops  through  the  key -hole,  swift  as  light; 
Pcrchd  on  the  cradle's  top  he  stands. 
And  thus  hertfolly  reprimands. 

Whence  sprung  the  vain  conceited  lie 
That  we  the  world  with  fools  supply  ? 
What!  give  our  sprightly  race  away, 
Vov  the  dull  helpless  sons  of  clay  .►* 
Besides,  by  partial  fondness  shown, 
Like  you  we  doat  upon  our  own. 
Where  yet  was  ever  found  a  mother, 
Wh^'d  give  her  booby  for  another  ? 
And,  should  we  change  with  human  breed, 
Well  migiit  we  pass  for  fools  indeed. 

FABLE  IV. 

THE  EAGI-E,    AND  THE  ASSEMBLY   OF    ANJIWALS. 


J\.  s  .1  upiter's  all-seeing  eye 
Survcy'd  the  worlds  beneath  the  sky, 
From  this  small  speck  of  earth  were  scat 
Murmurs  and  sounds  of  discontent ; 
I''or  ev'ry  thing  alive  com})lain'd 
That  he  the  hardest  life  sustain'd. 


PART  THE  FIRST.                  i5  ' 

Jove  calls  his  eagle.  At  the  word,  ^ 

Before  him  stands  the  royal  bird.  1 

The  bird,  obedient,  from  heav'n's  height^  '.. 

Downward  directs  his  rapid  flight ;  I 

Then  cited  ev'ry  living  thing,                           ,  j 

To  hear  the  mandates  of  his  king,  ; 

Ungrateful  creatures,  whence  arise  ] 

These  murmurs  which  offend  the  skie«  ?  ! 

Why  this  disorder.^  say  the  cause ;  j 

For  just  are  .Tove's  eternal  laws.  \ 

Let  each  his  discontent  reveal ;  ' 
To  you ,  sour  dog,  I  first  appeal. 

Hard,  is  my  lot,  the  hound  replies ,  -^ 

On  what  fleet  nerves  the  greyhound  flies  !  '] 

WhUe  I,  with  weary  step  and  slow,  I 

O'er  plains  and  vales,  and  mountains  go.  - 

The  morning  sees  my  chase  begun,  ' 

Nor  ends  it  till  the  setting  sun.  ' 

When,  says  the  greyhound,  I  pursue,  I 

My  game  is  lost,  or  caught  in  -^iew ;  j 
Beyond  my  sight  the  prey's  secure. 
The  hound  is  slow,  but  always  sure  ; 
And, had  I  his  sagacious  scent, 

Jove  ne'er  had  heard  my  discontent.  ' 

The  lion  crav'd  the  fox's  art; 

The  fox ,  the  lion's  force  and  heart.  ^ 

The  cock  implor'd  the  pigeon's  flight,  •■ 
Whose  wings  vere  rapid ,  strong ,  and  light ; 

The  pigeon  strength  of  wing  despis'd,  ; 

And  the  cock's  matchless  valour  priz'd  :  ' 

The  fishes  wish'd  to  graze  the  plain ;  j 
The  beasts,  to  skim  beneath  the  main : 
Thus,  envious  of  another's  state. 

Each  blam'd  the  partial  hand  of  Fate.  ' 

The  bird  of  heav'n  then  cry'd  aloud, 
Jove  bids  disperse  the  murm'ring  crowd ; 


i6  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 

The  God  rejects  your  idle  pray'rs. 
Would  ye,  rebellious  mutineers, 
Entirely  change  your  name  and  nature. 
And  be  the  very  envy'd  creature  ? 
What,  silent  all,  and  none  consent ! 
Be  happy,  then,  and  learn  content; 
]Nor  imitate  the  restless  mind. 
And  proud  ambition  of  mankind. 


^'%/V«^b/%<%>'«/W^.'%/W^ 


FABLE   V. 

THE   WILD    BOAR  AND  THE   RAM. 


A.  GAINST  an  elm  a  sheep  was  tied, 
The  butcher's  knife  in  blood  was  died: 
The  patient  flock,  in  silent  fi-ight, 
From  far  beheld  the  horrid  sight. 
A  savage  boar,  who  near  them  stood, 
Thus  mock'd  to  scorn  the  fleecy  brood. 

All  cowards  should  be  serv'd  like  you; 
See,  see,  your  murd'rer  is  in  view  ; 
With  purple  hands,  and  reeking  knife, 
He  strips  the  skin  yet  uarin  with  life: 
Your  quarter'd  sires,  your  bleeding  dams, 
The  dying  bleat  of  harmless  lambs 
Call  for  revenge.  O  stupid  race  .' 
The  heart  that  wants  revenge  is  base. 

I  grant,  an  ancient  ram  replies, 
We  bear  no  terror  in  our  eyes ; 
Yet  think  us  not  of  soul  so  tame. 
Which  no  repeated  wrongs  inflame; 
Insensible  of  ev'ry  ill. 
Because  we  want  thy  tusks  to  kill. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  r; 

Know,  those  who  violence  pursue 
Give  to  thems*iVes  the  vengeance  due  : 
For  in  these  massacres  they  find 
The  two  chief  plagues  that  waste  mankind. 
Our  skin  supplies  the  wrangling  bar, 
It  wakes  their  slumb'ring  sons  to  war; 
And  well  revenge  may  rest  contented. 
Since  drums  and  parchment  were  invented. 


FABLE   VI. 

THE   MISER  AND   PLCTCS. 


J.  HE  wind  was  high,  the  window  shakes, 
With  sudden  start  the  miser  wakes  ; 
Along  the  silent  room  he  stalks, 
Looks  back,  and  trembles  as  he  walks. 
Each  lock,  and  ev'ry  bolt,  he  tries. 
In  ev'ry  creek  and  corner  pries  ; 
Then  opes  the  chest  with  treasure  stor'd. 
And  stands  in  rapture  o'er  his  hoard. 
But  now  with  sudden  qualms  possest. 
He  wrings  his  hands,  he  beats  his  breast. 
By  conscience  stung,  he  wildly  stares  ; 
And  thus  his  guilty  soul  declares. 

Had  the  deep  earth  her  stores  confiu'd  : 
This  heart  had  known  sweet  peace  of  mind  ; 
But  virtue's  sold.  Good  gods  !  what  price 
Can  recompense  the  pangs  of  vice  I 
O  bane  of  good  ;  seducing  cheat .' 
Can  man,  weak  man,  thy  pow'r  defeat  ? 
Gold  banish'd  lionour  from  the  mind, 
And  only  left  the  name  behind  : 

3. 


i8  TABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY.  | 

Gold  sow'd  the  world  with  ev'ry  ill ;  .| 

Gold  taught  the  mnrd'rer's  sword  to  kill :  *! 

'Twas  gold  instructed  coward  hearts  j 

In  treach'ry's  more  pernicious  arts.  ii 

Who  can  recount  the  mischiefs  o'er  .^  \j 

Virtue  resides  on  earth  no  more  !  j 

He  spoke,  and  sigh'd.  In  angry  mood,  J 

Plutus,  his  god,  before  him  stood.  i 

The  miser,  trembling, lock'd  his  chest :  ' 

The  vision  frown'd,  and  thus  addrest :  ] 

Whence  is  this  vile  ungrateful  rant,  j 

Kach  sordid  rascal's  daily  cant  .'* 
Did  I,  base  wretch,  corrupt  mankind  ?  * 

The  fault's  in  thy  rapacious  mind.  j 

Because  my  blessings  are  abus'd. 
Must  1  be  ceusur'd,  curs'd,  accus'd.-* 
E'en  virtue's  self  by  knaves  is  made 
A  cloak  to  carry  on  the  trade  ; 
And  pow'r,  when  lodg'd  in  their  possession,  * 
Grows  tyranny,  and  rank  oppression.  | 

Thus  when  the  villain  crams  his  chest , 
Gold  is  the  canker  of  the  breast  :  i 

'Tis  av'rice  ,  insolence  ,  and  ]>ridc , 
And  ev'ry  shocking  vice  beside. 
But  when  to  virtuous  hands  'tis  given  , 
It  blesses ,  like  the  dew  of  heaven  : 
Like  heav'n  it  hears  the  orphan's  cries. 
And  wipes  the  tears  fi  om  widows'  eyes. 
Their  crimes  on  gold  shall  misers  lay  , 
Who  pawn  their  sordid  souls  for  pay  ? 
Let  bravoes  then,  when  blood  is  spilt, 
Upbraid  the  passive  soul  with  guili. 


PART  THE  FIRST. 


FABLE    VII. 

THE    LION,    THE    FOX,    AND    THE    GEESE. 


A  LION,  tir'd  witli  state  affairs, 
Quite  sick  of  pomp,  and  worn  -with  cares, 
Resolv'd,  remote  from  noise  and  strife, 
In  peace  to  pass  bis  latter  life. 

It  was  proclaim'd  ;  the  day  was  set  i 
Behold  the  gen'ral  council  met. 
The  fox  vas  viceroy  nam'd.  The  crowd 
To  the  new  regent  humbly  bow'd . 
Wolves,  bears,  and  mighty  tygers  bend, 
And  strive  who  most  shall  condescend. 
He  straight  assumes  a  solemn  grace, 
Collects  his  wisdom  in  his  face  ; 
The  crowd  admire  bis  wit,  his  sense  : 
Each  word  hath  weight  and  consequence. 
The  flatt'rer  all  his  art  displays  : 
He  who  hath  pow'r  is  sure  of  praise. 
A  fox  stept  forth  before  the  rest, 
And  tbus  the  servile  throng  addrest : 

How  vast  his  talents,  born  to  rule, 
And  train'd  in  virtue's  honest  school  / 
What  clemency  his  temper  sways  .' 
How  uncorrupt  are  all  his  ways  .' 
Beneath  his  conduct  and  command. 
Rapine  shall  cease  to  waste  the  land. 
His  brain  hath  stratagem  and  art; 
Pi^udence  and  mercy  rule  his  heart ; 
What  blessings  must  attend  the  nation 
Under  his  good  administration  ! 


t  ABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

He  said.  A  goose,  who  distant  stood, 
Harangu'd  apart  the  cackliog  brood. 

Whene'er  I  hear  a  knave  commend, 
He  bids  me  shun  his  worthy  friend. 
What  praise  !  what  mighty  commendation ! 
But  'twas  a  fox  who  spoke  th'  oration. 
Foxes  this  government  may  prize, 
As  gentle,  plentiful,  and  wise  ; 
If  they  enjoy  the  sweets,  'tis  plain 
We  geese  miist  feel  a  tyrant  reign. 
What  havock  now  shall  thin  our  race, 
When  ev'ry  petty  clerk  in  place. 
To  prove  bis  taste,  and  seem  polite, 
Will  feed  on  geese  both  noon  and  night ! 


FABLE  VIII. 


THE    I,A.DY    AND    THE    WASF. 


w. 


HAT  wkispors  must  the  beauty  bear  . 
What  hourly  non.sense  haunts  her  ear! 
Where'er  her  eyes  dispense  their  charms, 
Impertinence  around  her  swarms. 
Did  not  the  tender  nonsense  strike, 
Coiitempt  and  scorn  might  look  dislike: 
I'orbidding  airs  might  thin  the  place, 
The  slightest  flap  a  fly  can  chase. 
Rut  who  can  drive  the  num'rous  breed  ? 
(>hase  one,  another  will  succeed. 
Who  knows  a  fool,  must  know  his  brother  : 
One  fop  will  recommend  another: 
And  with  this  plague  she's  rightly  curst, 
Because  she  listen'd  to  the  lifsf. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  2» 

As  Doris ,  at  her  toilette's  duty, 
Sat  meditatiu£^  on  her  beauty, 
She  now  was  pensive ,  now  was  gay, 
And  loU'd  the  sultry  hours  away. 

As  thus  in  indolence  she  lies, 
A  giddy  wasp  around  her  flies. 
He  now  advances,  now  retires. 
Now  to  her  neck  and  cheek  aspires. 
Her  fan  in  vain  defends  her  charms ; 
Swift  he  returns  ,  again  alarms ; 
For  by  repulse  he  bolder  grew , 
Perch' d  on  her  lip  and  sipt  the  dew. 

She  frowns  ;  she  frets.  Good  gods  !  she  cries , 
Protect  me  from  these  teazing  flies  .' 
Of  all  the  plagues  that  Heav'u  hath  sent , 
A  wasp  is  most  impertinent. 

The  hov'ring  insect  thus  complain'd  ; 
Am  I  then  slighted,  scorn'd,  disdain'd? 
Can  such  offence  your  auger  wake? 
'Twas  beauty  caus'd  the  bold  mistake. 
Those  cherry  lips  that  breathe  perfume , 
That  cheek  so  ripe  with  youthful  bloom  , 
Made  me  with  strong  desire  pursue 
The  fairest  peach  that  ever  grew. 

Strike  him  not ,  Jenny ,  Doris  cries , 
Nor  murder  wasps  like  valgar  Qies: 
For  though  he's  free  ,  ( to  do  him  right , ) 
The  creature's  civil  and  polite. 

In  ecstacies  aw  av  he  posts  ; 
Where'er  he  came  the  favour  boasts  ; 
Brags  how  her  sweetest  tea  he  sips , 
And  shews  the  sugar  on  his  lips. 

The  hint  alarm 'd  the  forward  crew  : 
Sure  of  success  away  they  flew. 
They  share  the  dainties  oY  the  day , 
Round  her  with  airy  musick  play  ; 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  fxAY. 
And  now  they  flutter ,  now  they  rest , 
Now  soar  again  ,  and  skim  her  breast. 
Nor  Avere  they  banish' d,  till  she  found 
That  wasps  have  stings ,  and  felt  the  wound. 


FABLE   IX. 

THE    BULL    AND    THE    MASTirr. 

Jj  E  E  K  you  to  train  your  fav'rite  boy  ? 
Each  caution,  ev'iy  care  employ  ; 
And  ere  you  venture  to  confide , 
Let  his  preceptor's  heart  be  try'd  : 
Weigh  well  his  manners,  life,  and  scope  ; 
On  these  depends  thy  future  hope. 

As  on  a  time  in  peaceful  reign , 
A  bull  enjoy'd  the  flow'ry  plain, 
A  mastiff  pass'd ;  inflam'd  with  ire, 
His  eye-balls  shot  indignant  lire  ; 
He  foam'd,  he  rag'd  with  thirSt  of  blood. 

Spurning  ihe  ground,  the  monarch  stood. 
And  roar'd  aloud.  Suspend  the  light ; 
In  a  whole  skin  go  sleep  to  night : 
Or  tell  me ,  ere  the  battle  rage, 
What  wrongs  provoke  thee  to  engage? 
Is  it  ambition  lires  thy  breast, 
Or  avarice  that  ne'er  can  rest? 
From  these  alone  unjustly  springs 
The  world-destroying  wrath  of  kings. 

The  surly  mastiff  thus  returns  : 
Within  my  bosom  glory  burns. 
Like  heroes  of  eternal  name, 
Whom  poets  sing,  I  fight  for  fflme. 


PART  THE  FIRST. 
The  butcher's  spirit-stirring  mind 
To  daily  war  my  youth  incliu'd ; 
He  traiu'd  me  to  heroick  deed. 
Taught  me  to  conquer  ,  or  to  bleed. 

Curs'd  dog,  the  bull  reply 'd,  no  more 
I  wonder  at  thy  thirst  of  gore ; 
For  thou  (  beneath  a  butcher  train'd. 
Whose  hands  with  cruelty  are  stain'd, 
His  daily  murders  in  thy  view  ) 
Must,  like  thy  tutor,  blood  pursue. 
Take  then  thy  fate.  With  goring  wound  , 
At  once  he  lifts  him  from  the  ground  ; 
Aloft  the  sprawling  hero  flies  , 
Mangled  he  falls  ,  he  howls  ,  and  dies. 


FABLE  X. 


THE  ELEPHANT  X'SD    THE  BOOKSELLER. 


JL  HE  man  who,  with  undaunted  toils, 
Sails  unknown  seas,  to  unknown  soils, 
With  various  wonders  feasts  his  sight; 
What  stranger  wonders  does  he  write .' 
We  read,  and  in  description  view 
Creatures  which  Adam  never  kuew  : 
For  when  we  risk  no  contradiction, 
It  prompts  the  tongue  to  deal  in  fiction. 
Those  things  that  startle  me  or  you 
I  grant  are  strange,  yet  may  be  true. 
Who  doubts  that  elephants  are  found 
For  science  and  for  sense  renown'd  ? 
Kom  records  their  strength  of  parts, 
Extent  of  thought .  and  skill  in  arts  : 


24  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 

How  they  perform  the  law's  decrees, 
And  save  the  state  the  hangman's  fees  , 
And  how  by  travel  understand 
The  language  of  another  land. 
Let  those  who  question  this  report, 
To  Pliny's  ancient  page  resort. 
How  learn'd  was  that  sagacious  breed  ! 
Who  now,  like  them,  the  Greek  can  read.^ 

As  one  of  these,  in  days  of  yore, 
R.ummag'd  a  shop  of  learning  o'er ; 
Not,  like  our  modern  dealers,  minding 
Only  the  margin's  breadth  and  binding ; 
A  book  his  curious  eye  detains. 
Where,  with  exactest  care  and  pains, 
Were  ev'ry  beast  and  bird  portray'd 
That  e'er  the  search  of  man  surve'yd  ; 
Their  natures  and  their  pow'rs  were  writ. 
With  all  the  pride  of  human  wit. 
The  page  he  with  attention  spread , 
And  thus  remark'd  on  what  he  read. 

Man  with  strong  reason  is  endow'd; 
A  beast  scarce  instinct  is  allow'd  : 
But  let  this  author's  worth  be  try'd  , 
'Tis  plain  that  neither  was  his  guide. 
Can  he  discern  the  diff'rent  natures  , 
And  weigh  the  pow'r  of  other  creatures. 
Wlio  by  the  partial  work  hath  .shown  * 
He  knows  so  little  of  his  own  ? 
How  falsely  is  the  spaniel  drawn  ! 
Did  man  from  him  iirsi  learn  to  f;-wn  i' 
A  dog  proficient  in  the  trade  I 
He,  the  chief  llatt'rer  nature  made  ! 
Go,  man  ,  the  ways  of  courts  discern  , 
You'll  find  a  spaniel  still  might  learn. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  al 

How  can  the  fox's  iheft  and  plunder 
Provoke  his  censure  or  his  wonder? 
From  courtiers'  tricks,  and  lawyers'  arts 
The  fox  might  well  improve  his  parts. 
The  lion ,  wolf,  and  tyger'.s  brood  , 
He  curses  for  their  thirst  of  blood  : 
But  is  not  man  to  man  a  prey  ? 
Beasts  kill  for  hunger  ,  men  for  pay. 

The  bookseller,  who  heard  him  speak, 
And  saw  him  turn  a  page  of  Greek, 
Thought,  what  a  genius  have  I  found  ! 
Then  thus  address'd  with  bow  profound. 

Learn'd  Sir  ,  if  you'd  employ  your  pen 
Against  the  senseless  sons  of  men  , 
Or  write  the  history  of  Siam  , 
No  man  is  better  pay  than  I  am  ; 
Or  ,  since  you're  learn'd  in  Greek ,  let's  se& 
Something  against  the  Trinity. 

When  wrinkhng  with  a  sneer  his  Jrunk , 
Friend,  quoth  the  elephant,  you're  drunk: 
E'en  keep  your  money ,  and  be  wise ; 
Leave  man  on  fa?.n  to  criticise  : 
For  that  you  ne'er  can  want  a  pen 
Among  the  senseless  sons  of  men  : 
They  unprovok'd  will  court  the  fray : 
Envy's  a  sharper  spur  than  pay. 
No  author  ever  spar'd  a  brother; 
Wits  are  i;ame-cocks  to  one  another. 


FABLE   XI. 

THE  PEACOCK.,  THE  TURKEY,  AWD  THE  GOOSE. 

X  N  beauty  faults  conspicuous  grow ; 
The  smallest  speck  is  seen  on  snow. 


a6  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

As  near  a  barn ,  by  hunger  led , 
A  peacock  with  the  poultry  fed; 
All  view'd  him  with  an  envious  eye. 
And  niock'd  liis  gaudy  pageantry. 
He  , conscious  of  superior  merit. 
Contemns  their  base  reviling  spirit; 
His  state  a  ad  d'gnity  assumes  , 
And  to  the  snu  displays  hjs  ^>lumes  ; 
Which,  like  the  hew'n's  oVi -arching  skies, 
Are  spangled  with  a  thousand  eyes. 
The  circling  rays,  and  varied  light. 
At  once  confound  thtir  dazzled  sight: 
On  ev'ry  tongue  detraction  burns, 
And  malice  prompts  their  spleen  by  turns. 

Mark  Avith  what  intolcnce  and  pride 
The  crs^ature  takes  his  luuighty  stride  !  * 
The  turkey  cries.  Can  spleen  contain? 
Sure  never  bird  was  half  so  vain  : 
But  were  ii:tiinsick  merit  seen  , 
We  turkeys  have  the  whiter  skin. 

From  tongue  to  tongu?  they  caught  abuse; 
And  next  vv^j  heard  the  hissing  goose. 
.    What  hideous  legs  !  what  lillhy  claws  ! 
I  scorn  to  censure  little  flaws. 
Then  what  a  horrid  squawling  throat ! 
Ev'n  owls  are  frighted  ht  the  note. 

True,  those  are  faults,  the  peacock  cries; 
My  scream ,  my  shanks  you  may  despise ; 
But  such  blind  criticks  rail  in  vain  : 
Wliat,  overlook  my  radiant  train  .' 
Know,  did  my  legs,  your  scorn  and  sport, 
The  turkey  or  the  goose  su}>port , 
And  did  ye  scream  with  harsher  sound, 
Those  faults  in  you  had  ne'er  been  found  ; 
To  all  apparent  beauties  blind  , 
Each  blemish  strikes  an  envious  mind. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  37 

Tlius  in  assemblies  have  I  seen 
A  nymph  of  brightest  charms  and  mien 
Wake  envy  in  each  ugly  face , 
And  buzzing  scandal  fill  the  place. 


FABLE    XII. 

CCrriD  ,    HY-MEN  ,    AND    PLCTUS. 


As  Cupid  in  Cythera's  grove 
Employ'd  the  lesser  pow'rs  of  love, 
Some  shape  the  bow,  or  fit  the  string, 
Some  give  the  taper  shaft  its  win^. 
Or  turn  the  polish'd  quiver's  mould, 
O^^head  the  darts  with  temper'd  gold. 
Amidst  their  toil  and  various  care, 
Thus  hymen,  with  assuming  air, 
Address'd  the  God,  Thou  purblind  chit, 
Of  auk  ward  and  ill-judging  wit, 
If  matches  are  not  better  made, 
At  once  I  must  forswear  my  trade. 
You  send  me  such  ill  coupled  folks. 
That  "tis  a  shame  to  sell  them  yokes. 
They  squabble  for  a  pin,  a  feather, 
And  wonder  how  they  came  together. 
The  husband's  sullen,  dogged,  shy; 
The  wife  grows  flippant  in  reply  : 
He  loves  command  and  due  restriction  ; 
And  she  as  well  likes  contiadiction  : 
She  never  slavishly  submits  ; 
She'll  have  her  wiU ,  or  have  her  fits. 
He  this  way  tugs,  she  t'other  draws  ; 
The  man  grows  jealous,  and  with  cause. 


ag  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

Nothing  can  save  him  but  divorce  ; 
And  here  the  wife  complies  of  course. 

When,  says  the  boy,  had  I  to  do 
With  either  your  affairs  or  you  ? 
I  never  idly  spend  my  darts ; 
You  trade  in  mercenary  hearts. 
For  settlements  the  la\>yer's  fee'd; 
Is  my  hand  witness  to  the  deed  ? 
If  they  like  cat  and  dog  apree, 
Go  rail  at  Plutus,  not  at  me. 

Plutus  appear'd,  and  said  :  'Tis  true  ; 
In  marriage  gold  is  all  their  view  ; 
They  seek  not  beauty,  wit,  or  sense; 
And  love  is  seldom  the  pretence. 
All  offer  incense  at  my  shrine, 
And  I  alone  the  bargain  sign. 
How  can  Belinda  blame  her  fate  ? 
She  only  ask'd  a  great  estate. 
Doris  was  rich  enough,  'tis  true ; 
Her  lord  must  give  her  title  too  ; 
■     And  ev'ry  man,  or  rich  or  poor, 
A  fortune  asks,  and  asks  no  more. 

Av'rice,  whatever  shap.e  it  bears. 
Must  still  be  coupled  with  its  cares. 


FABLE    XIII. 

THE    TAME    STAG. 

-tL  s  a  young  stag  the  thicket  past. 
The  branches  held  his  antlers  fast ; 
A  clown,  who  saw  the  captive  hung, 
Across  the  horns  his  halter  flung. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  19 

Now  safely  hamper'd  in  the  cord, 

He  bore  the  present  to  his  lord.        . 

His  lord  was  pleas'd;  as  was  the  clown, 

When  he  was  tip'd  with  half-a-crown. 

The  stag  was  brought  before  his  wife  ; 

The  tender  lady  begg'd  his  life. 

How  sleek's  the  skin  .'  how  speck'd  like  ermine  ! 

Sure  never  creature  was  so  charming  ! 

At  first  within  the  yard  confin'd, 
He  flies  and  hides  from  all  mankind  ; 
Now  bolder  grown,  with  fix'd  amaze. 
And  distant  awe,  presumes  to  gaze*, 
Munches  the  linen  on  the  lines  , 
And  on  a  hood  or  apron  dines ; 
He  steals  my  little  master's  bread, 
Follows  the  servants  to  be  fed  : 
Nearer  and  nearer  now  he  stands. 
To  feel  the  praise  of  patting  hands  ; 
Examines  ev'ry  fist  for  meat, 
And  though  repuls'd,  disdains  retreat; 
Attacks  again  with  levell'd  horns  ; 
And  man,  that  was  his  terror,  scorns. 

Such  is  the  country  maiden's  fright, 
When  first  a  red-coat  is  in  sight, 
Behind  the  door  she  hides  her  face  ; 
Next  tim'e  at  distance  eyes  the  lace. 
She  now  can  all  his  terrors  stand, 
Nor  from  his  squeeze  w^thdraws  her  hand. 
She  plays  familiar  in  his  arms. 
And  ev'ry  soldier  hath  Ixis  charms. 
From  tent  to  tent  she  spreads  her  flame  ; 
For  custom  conquers  fear  and  shame. 


Bo  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 


b«/<%/V«'^k^^%.'%/^V%/'WV'%/%.^'%^^%/V^.« 


THE    MONKEY    WHO    HA.D    SEEN    THE    WORL*. 


A  MONKEY,  to  reform  the  times, 
Resolv'd  to  visit  foreign  climes  : 
For  men  in  distant  regions  roam 
To  bring  politer  manners  home. 
So  forth  he  fares  ;  all  toils  defies  : ' 
Misfortune  serves  to  make  us  wise. 

At  length  the  treach'rous  snare  was  laid; 
Poor  pug  was  caught,  to  town  convey'd, 
There  sold.  How  envy'd  was  his  doom, 
Made  captive  in  a  lady's  room ! 
Proud  as  a  lover  of  his  chains. 
He  day  by  day  her  favour  gains. 
Whene'er  the  duty  of  ihe  day 
The  toilette  calls  ;  with  miniick  play 
He  twirls  her  knots,  he  cracks  her  fan, 
Like  any  other  gcntleraau. 
In  visits  too,  his  parts  and  wit, 
When  jests  grew  dull,  were  sure  to  hit. 
Proud  with  a|)plause,  he  thought  his  mind 
In  ev'ry  courtly  art  refin'd; 
Like  Orpheus,  burnt  with  publick  zeal, 
To  civilize  the  Monkey -weal : 
So  Avatch'd  occasion,  broke  his  chain, 
And  sought  his  native  woods  again. 

The  hairy  sylvans  round  him  press. 
Astonished  at  his  strut  and  dress. 
Spme  praise  his  sleeve;  and  others  glole 
Upon  hi5  rich  embroidcr'd  coat ; 


PART  THE  FIRST.  3i 

His  dapper  perriwig  comruending,  i 

With  the  black  tail  behind  depending;  i 

His  powder'd  back,  above,  below,  ' 

Like  hoary  frost,  or  fleecy  snow  ; 

But  all,  with  envy  and  desire,  j 

His  flutt'ring  shoulder-knot  admire. 

Hear,  and  improve,  he  pertly  cries ;  i 

I  come  to  make  a  nation  wise.  \ 

Weigh  your  own  worth ;  support  your  place ,  j 

The  next  in  rank  to  human  race.  \ 

In  cities  long  I  pass'd  my  days, 
Couvers'd  with  men,  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.-  i 

Bend  all  your  force  to  spatter  merit :  ^ 

Scandal  is  conversation's  spirit.  i 

Boldly  to  ev'ry  thing  pretend. 

And  men  your  talents  shall  commend.  ; 

I  knew  the  great.  Observe  me  right ;  i 

So  shall  you  grow,  like  man,  polite. 

He  spoke,  and  bow'd.  With  mutt'ring  jaws  "■ 

The  wond'ring  circle  grinn'd  applause.  .  , 

Now,  warm'd  with  malice,  envy,  spite, 
Their  most  obliging  friends  they  bite, 
And,  fond  to  copy  human  ways. 
Practise  new  mischiefs  all  their  days.  I 

Thus  the  dull  Jad,  too  tall  for  school,  \ 

With  travel  finishes  the  fool  j  ] 


32  TABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

Studious  of  ev'ry  coxcomb's  airs, 
He  drinks,  games,  dresses,  whores  and  swears : 
OVrlooks  with  scorn  all  virtuous  arts, 
For  vice  is  fitted  to  his  parts. 


FABLE    XV. 


THE    PHILOSOPHER    AND    THE    PHEASANTS. 


i  HE  sage,  awak'd  at  early  day. 
Through  the  deep  forest  took  his  way ; 
Drawn  by  the  musick  of  the  groves, 
Along  the  wind  ug  gloom  he  roves : 
From  tree  to  tree  the  warbling  tbroats 
Prolong  the  sweet  alternate  notes. 
But  where  he  past,  he  terror  threw, 
The  song  broke  short,  the  warblers  flew; 
The  thrushes  chatter'd  Avith  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  ? 

As  thus  he  walk'd  in  musing  thougjit, 
His  ear  imperfect  accents  caught : 
Witli  cautious  step  he  nearer  drew 
By  the  thick  shade  conceal'd  from  view. 
High  on  the  branch  a  ])heasant  stood, 
Around  her  all  her  list'ning  brood ; 
Proud  of  the  blessings  of  her  nest, 
She  thus  a  mother's  care  exprest. 

No  dangers  here  shall  circumvent; 
Within  the  woods  enjoy  content. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  33 

Sooner  the  hawk  or  vulture  trust 

Than  man,  of  animals  the  worst. 

In  him  ingratitude  you  find, 

A  vice  peculiar  to  the  kind. 

The  sheep,  whose  annual  fleece  is  died, 

To  guard  his  health  and  serve  his  pride, 

Forc'd  from  his  fold  and  native  plain. 

Is  in  the  cruel  shambles  slain. 

The  swarms,  who,  with  industrious  skill. 

His  hives  with  wax  and  honey  fill. 

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  lover's  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  yoiir  days. 

When  services  are  thus  acquitted. 

Be  sure  wtf  pheasants  must  be  spitted. 


FABLE    XVI. 

THE    riW    AND    THE    NEEDLE. 

jA.  pin,  who  long  had  serv'd  a  beauty, 

Proficient  in  the  toilette's  duty, 

Had  form'd  her  sleeve,  confin'd  her  hair. 

Or  giv'n  her  knot  a  smarter  air, 

Now  nearest  to  her  heart  was  plac'd, 

Now  in  her  montaa's  tail  disgrac'd ; 


34  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 

But  could  she  partial  fortune  blame, 
Who  saw  her  lovers  serv'd  the  same? 

At  length  from  all  her  honours  cast , 
Through  various  turns  of  hfe  she  past ; 
Now  glitter'd  on  a  tailor'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  Gresham-hall  was  lost. 
Charm'd  with  the  wonders  of  the  show, 
On  ev'ry  side,  above,  below, 
She  now  of  this  or  that  enquires, 
What  least  was  understood  admires. 
'Tis  plain,  each  thing  so  struck  her  mind, 
Her  head's  of  virtuoso  kind. 

And  pray  what's  this,  and  this,  dear  Sir.** 
A  needle,  says  th'  interpreter. 
She  knew  the  name.  And  thus  the  fool 
Address'd  her  as  a  tailor's  tool.' 

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  arf, 
That  virtue  virtues  can  impart? 
Of  all  his  talents  I  partake, 
Who  then  can  such  a  friend  forsake  ? 
*Tis  I  direct  the  pilot's  hand 
To  shun  the  rocks  and  trcach'rous  sand : 


PART  THE  FIRST.  35  j 

By  rae  the  distant  world  is  known, 

And  either  India  is  our  own.  1 

Had  I  with  milliners  been  bred.  '. 

What  had  I  been  ?  The  gnide  of  thread  ;  i 

And  drudg'd  as  vulgar  needles  do,  j 

Of  no  more  consequence  than  you.  ] 


FABLE     XVII. 

THE    SHEPHERn's  DOG  AND   THE   WOLF.  1 

i\.  WOLF,  with  hunger  fierce  and  bold, 

Ravag'd  the  plains,  and  thinn'd  the  fold ; 

Deep  in  the  wood  secure  he  lay,  i 

The  thefts  of  night  regal'd  the  day. 

In  vain  the  shepherd's  wakeful  care 

Had  spread  the  toils,  and  watch'd  the  snace; 

In  vain  the  dog  pursu'd  his  pace,  \ 

The  fleeter  robber  mock'd  the  chase. 

As  Lightfoot  rang'd  the  forest  round,  ] 

By  chance  his  foe's  retreat  he  found.  I 

Let  us  awhile  the  war  suspend,  i 

And  reason  as  from  friend  to  friend.  ' 

A  truce  ^  replies  the  wolf.  'Tis  done.  i 

The  dog  the  parley  thus  begun  :  ; 

How  can  that  strong  intrepid  mind  ? 

Attack  a  weak  defenceless  kiud.^  i 

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. 


58  TABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY.  \ 


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,  j 

Thy  bosom  burn  with  real  zeal,  i 

Hence,  aud  thy  tyrant  lord  beseech ;  I 

To  him  repeat  the  moving  speech  :  j 

A  wolf  eats  sheep,  but  now  and  then ;  ; 

Ten  thousands  are  devour'd  by  men.  ? 

An  open  foe  maiy  prove  a  curse,  t\ 

But  a  pretended  friend  is  worse.  ' 


FABLE  XVIII. 

THE  PAINTER  WHO  PLEASED  NOBODY  AND  EVERY  BODY. 

«JLest  men  suspect  your  tale  untrue. 
Keep  prohabilily  in  view. 
The  trav'ler  leaping  o'er  those  bounds. 
The  credit  of  his  book  confounds. 
Who  with  his  tongue  hath  armies  routed, 
Makes  ev'n  his  real  courage  doubted. 
But  flatt'ry  never  seems  absurd; 
The  flatter'd  always  take  youi'  v\ord  ; 
Impossibilities  seem  just: 
They  take  the  strongest  praise  on  trust. 
Hyperboles,  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. 


PART  THE  FIRST. 

No  flatt'ry  with  bis  colours  laid, 
To  bloom  restor'd  tbe  faded  maid; 
He  gave  eacb  muscle  all  its  strenjjtb; 
Tbe  moutb,  the  chin,  tbe  nose's  length. 
His  honest  pencil  touch'd  with  truth, 
And  mark'd  tbe  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  bustoes,  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  aukward  creature. 

All  things  were  set ;  the  hour  was  come, 
His  pallet  ready  o'er  bis  thumb ; 
My  lord  appear" d ;  and  seated  right, 
In  proper  attitude  and  bght, 
The  painter  look'd,  he  sketch'd  the  piece, 
Then  dipt  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  band  require, 
To  give  them  all  the  native  lire; 
Tbe  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  reply'd, 
'Till  now  I  thought  ray  mouth  was  wide; 
Besides,  my  nose  is  somewhat  long; 
Dear  Sir,  for  me,  'tis  far  too  young. 

Oh!  pardon  me,  tbe  artist  cry'd. 
In  this  we  painters  must  decide : 


38  TABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY.  j 

The  piece  ev'u  common  eyes  must  strike;  ( 

I  warrant  it  extremely  like.  : 

My  lord  examin'd  it  a  new ;  -i 

No  looking-glass  seem'd  half  so  true. 

A  lady  came  :  with  borrow'd  giace  i 

He  from  his  Venus  form'd  her  face.  ,] 

Her  lover  prais'd  the  painter's  art ;  J 

So  like  the  picture  in  his  heart .' 
To  ev'ry  age  some  charm  he  lent ;  : 

Ev'n  beauties  were  almost  content. 

Through  all  the  town  his  art  they  prais'd;     [ 
His  custoju  grew;  his  price  was  rais'd.  ' 

Had  he  the  real  likeness  shown,  v 

Would  any  man  the  piclure  o\\n?  ij 

But  when  thus  happily  he  wrou;.'ht,  -\ 

Each  found  the  likeness  in  his  thought. 


FABLE  XIX. 


THE    I.IOX    ANU    THE    CVB. 

11  o  w  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  in  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. 


PART  THE  riRST.  39 

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  tbeir  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  I 
Good  gods !  hoTV  natural  be  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  I  the  cub  replies; 
Our  senate  always  held  me  v^ise. 
Hovf  weak  is  pride  .'  returns  the  sire ; 
All  fools  are  vain,  when  fools  admire.' 
But  know,  what  stupid  asses  prize, 
Lions  and  noble  beasts  despise. 


FABLE   XX. 

THE  OLD  HEN  AND  THE  COCK. 

JLLestratn  your  cbild;  you'll  soon  belicA'e 
The  text  which  says  we  sprung  from  Eve. 


4o  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

As  an  old  hen  led  fortli  her  train, 
And  seem'd  to  peck  to  shew  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  diops.  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  yt>u  vig'rous,  strovig,  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 ;  that  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  docs  her  harvest  store  the  place, 
A  treasure  for  her  younger  race.*' 
/      And  would  she  thus  my  search  prcv^eut  ? 
I  stand  resolv'd,  and  dnre  th'  event. 

Thus  said.  He  mounts  the  margins  run' 
And  pries  into  the  depth  profound. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  41 

He  sfretch'd  his  neck  ;  and  from  below 
With  stretohiug  neck  advanc'd  a  foe  ; 
With  wrath  his  ruflled  plume  he  rears, 
The  foe  with  ruffled  plume  appears: 
Threat  answer'd  threat :  his  fury  ffrew, 
Headlong  to  meet  the  v.ar  he  flew. 
But  when  the  watVy  death  he  found, 
He  thus  lamented  as  he  drown'd  : 

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


FABLE    XXI. 

THE    RAT-CATCHER    AND    CATS, 


±  HE  rats  by  nijjht  such  mischief  did, 
Betty  was  ev'ry  morning  chid  : 
They  undermiii'd  whole  sides  of  bacon, 
Her  cheese  was  sapp'd,  her  tarts  were  taken; 
Her  pasties,  fenc'd  with  thickest  paste, 
Were  ail  demo'ish'd  and  laid  waste. 
She  curs'd  the  cat  for  want  of  duty, 
Who  left  her  foes  a  constant  booty. 

An  euj^ineer,  of  noted  skill, 
Engag'd  to  stop  the  growing  ill. 

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

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 ; 

4. 


42  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

So  secretly  removes  his  bails, 
And  ev'i-y  stratagem  defeats. 

Again  he  sets  the  poison'd  toils, 
And  puss  again  the  labour  foils. 

Wbat  foe,  to  frustrate  my  designs. 
My  schemes  thus  nightly  countermines  ? 
Incens'd,  he  cries  ;  this  very  hour 
The  wretch  shall  bleed  beneath  my  pow'r. 

So  said.  A  pond'rous  trap  he  brought, 
And  in  the  fact  poor  puss  was  caught. 

Smuggler,  says  he,  thou  shalt  be  made 
A  victim  to  our  loss  oi  trade. 

The  captive  cat,  with  piteous  mews, 
For  pardon,  life,  and  freedom  sues. 
A  sister  of  the  scienoe  spare ; 
One  int'rest  is  our  comrnon  care. 

What  insolence  .'  the  man  reply'd  : 
Shall  cats  with  us  the  game  divide  ; 
Were  all  your  interloping-hand 
Extinguish'd,  or  expeJl'd  the  land. 
We  rat-catchers  might  raise  our  fees, 
Sole  guardians  of  a  nation's  cheese .' 

A  cat,  who  saw  the  lificd  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. 
Bhch  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'ueighbour  kings  dethrone. 
In  hope  to  jnake  the  world  their  own. 
But  let  us  limit  our  desires. 
Not  war  like  beauties,  kings,  and  'squires: 
For  though  we  both  one  prey  pujrsue, 
There's  game  enough  for  us  and  you. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  43 


FABLE    XXII. 


THE  GOAT  WITHOUT  X    BEARD. 

±  IS  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,  dogs. 
Fleas,  owls,  goats,  butterflies,  and  hogs. 
I  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  roU'd  upon  the  fragrant  ground; 
And  then  with  fond  attention  stood, 
Jlx'd  o'er  his  image  in  the  flood. 

I  hate  my  frowzy  beard,  he  cries  : 
My  youth  is  lost  in  this  disguise. 
Did  not  the  females  know  ray  vigour, 
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  dar  per  art. 
His  pole  with  pewter  basons  hung, 
Black  rotten  teeth  in  order  strung! 
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  breathd  a  xi 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 

The  goat  lie  welcomes  with  an  air, 
And  seats  him  in  his  wooden  chair: 
Mouth,  nose,  and  cheeks  the  lathcF  hides  : 
Light,  smooth,  and  swift,  the  razor  glides. 

I  hope  your  custom.  Sir,  says  pug; 
Sure  never  face  v^s  half  so  smug. 

The  goat,  impatient  for  applause, 
Swift  to  the  neighh'ring  hill  withdraws  ; 
The  shaggy  people  grinn'd  and  star'd. 
Heighday !  what's  here?  wifhout  a  beard. 
Say, brother,  whence  the  dire  disgrace.^ 
What  envious  hand  halh  robb'd  yovir  face  ? 
When  thus  the  fop  with  smiles  of  scorn: 
Are  beards  by  civil  nations  worn  ? 
Ev'n  Muscovites  have  mow'd  their  chins, 
Shall  we,  like  formal  capuchins. 
Stubborn  in  pride,  retain  the  mode, 
And  bear  about  the  hairy  load  ? 
Wliene'er  we  through  the  village  stray, 
Are  we  not  mock'd  along  the  way; 
Insulted  with  loud  shouts  of  scorn  ; 
By  boys  our  beards  disgrac'd  and  torn  .•' 

Wore  you  no  more  with  goats  to  dwell, 
Brother,  I  grant  you  reason  well, 
Beplies  a  bearded  chief.  Beside, 
If  boys  can  mortify  thy  pride, 
How  wilt  thou  stand  the  ridicule 
Of  our  whole  flock  ?  affected  fool .' 
Coxcombs  distingnish'd  from  the  rest 
To  all  but  coxcombs  are  a  jest. 


PART  THE  FIRST. 


FABLE    XXIII. 

THE    OLD    WOMAN    AND    HER    CATS. 

Who  friendsliip  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, 
Reside  a  little  smoaky  fbnie 
Sat  hov'ring,  piuch'd  with  age  and  frost ; 
Her  shriveil'd  hands,  with  veins  emboss'd. 
Upon  her  knees  her  weight  sustains, 
W^hile  palsy  shook  her  crazy  brains  : 
She  mumbles  forth  her  backv.ard  pray'rs, 
An  untam'd  scold  of  fourscore  years. 
About  her  swarm'd  a  num'rous  brood 
Of  cats,  who  lank  with  hunger  mewd. 

Teaz'd  with  their  ci'ies,  her  cholcr  grew, 
And  thus  she  spulter'd  :  li'ence,  ye  crew; 
Fool  that  I  was  to  entertain 
Such  imps,  such  Hends,  a  hellish  train  ! 
Had  ye  been  never  hous'd  and  nnrs'd, 
I,  for  a  witch,  had  ne'er  been  curs'd. 
To  you  I  owe  that  crowds  of  boys 
Worry  me  with  eternal  noise  ; 


4G  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

Straws  laid  across  my  pace  retard, 
Theliorse-slioe's  nail'd,  (each  threshold's  guai 
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  pi'ate  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  chase.   * 
'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. 


FABLE  XXTV. 

THE    BUTTERFLY    JlNJ)    THE    SNAIL. 

jfiLL  upstarts  insolent  in  place, 
Remind  us  of  their  vulgar  race. 

As  in  the  sunshine  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, 
Bcflropt  with  azure,  jet,  and  gold. 
Wide  he  displays;  the  spanj;!ed  dew 
Reflects  bis  eyes,  and  various  liue. 

His  now  forgotten  fiieiid,  a  snail. 
Beneath  his  house,  with  slimy  trail 


PART  THE  FIRST.  47 

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  choaking  weeds  to  rid  the  soil? 
.  Why  wake  you  to  the  morning's  care? 
^  Why  with  new  arts  correct  the  year? 

Why  grows  the  peach  with  crimson  hue  ? 

And  why  the  plum's  inviting  hlue  ? 

W'ere  they  to  feast  his  taste  designed, 

That  vermin  of  voracious  kind? 

Crush  then  the  slow,  the  pilf 'ring  race  ; 

So  purge  thy  garden  from  disgrace. 
What  arrogance  I  the  snail  reply 'd  ; 

How  insolent  is  upstart  pride  ? 

Hadst  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  have  wak'd  the  hours, 

To  swell  the  fruit,  and  paint  the  liow'rs, 

Since  I  thy  humbler  life  surveyed, 

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  drevs" 

Foul  iilm,  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. 


48  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

FA.BLE  XXV. 

THE  SOOLD  AND  THE  PARKOT. 


X  HE  husband  thus  reprov'd  his  wife : 
Who  dials  in  slander,  lives  in  strife. 
Art  thou,  the  herald  of  disgrace, 
Denouncing  war  to  ail  thy  race  ? 
Can  nothing  quell  thy  thunder's  I'age, 
Which  spares  nor  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  muiva'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  I  how  wise  .' 
Is  naturA  choicest  gift  debarr'd? 
Nay,  frown  not ;  for  I  will  be  heard. 
Women  of  late  are  iinely  ridden, 
A  parrot's  privilege  forbidden? 
You  praise  his  talk,  his  squawling  song  ; 
But  wives  are  always  in  the  wrong. 

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

At  once  the  torrent  of  her  words 
Alarm'd  cat,  monkey,  dogs, and  birds: 


PART  THE  riRST.  J^g 

All  join  their  forces  to  con'ound  her. 
Puss  spits,  tiie  monkey  chatters  round  her; 
The  yelping  cur  her  heels  assaults  ; 
The  magpie  blabs  out  all  her  faults; 
Poll,  iu  the  uproar,  from  his  cage. 
With  this  rebuke  out  scream'd  her  rage. 

A  parrot  is  for  talking  pr.z'd, 
But  pi-attliag  women  are  des}  is'd. 
She  who  attacks  another's  honour 
Draws  evlry  living  th  ng  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. 


FABLE -XX VI. 

THK    CUR    AND    THE    MASTIFF. 


jt\.  SNEAKTNG  cur,  the  master's  spy, 
Rewarded  for  his  daily  lie. 
With  secret  jealousies  anil  Tears 
Set  all  together  by  the  ears. 
Poor  puss  to-day  was  in  disgrace, 
Another  cat  supply'd  her  place ; 
The  hound  was  beat,  the  mastiff  chid, 
The  monkey  was  the  room  forbid  ; 
Each  to  h.s  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  Ins  head, 
And  bought  his  secrecy  with  bread. 


FABLES    BY   JOHN    GAY. 
lis  next  the  mastiff's  honour  ti'ied, 
Whose  honest  jaws  the  bribe  4(eiieil. 
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  curs'd,  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'  Avords  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  clcar'd. 


FABLE  XXVII. 

•      TUE    SICK    MJLX    AND    THE    ANCEL. 

As  there  no  hope  ?  the  sick  man  said. 
The  silent  doctor  shook  Jiis  head, 
And  took  his  leave,  with  signs  of  sorrow, 
Dcsjjairing  of  his  fee  to-inorrow. 

When  thus  the  man,  with  gasping  breath 
I  feel  the  chilling  wound  of  death  : 


PART  THE  riRST.  5x 

Since  I  must  bid  the  world  adieu, 
Let  me  my  former  life  revievA. 
I  grant,  my  bargains  -nell  were  made, 
Rut  all  men  over-reach  ia  trade  ; 
'Tis  self-defence  in  each  profession  : 
Sure  self-defence  is  no  transgression. 
The  little  portion  in  my  hands, 
Ry  good  security  on  lands, 
Is  well  increas'd.  If  unawares 
My  justice  to  myself  and  heirs 
Hath  let  my  debtor  rot  in  jail, 
For  want  of  good  sufficient  bail ; 
If  I  by  writ,  or  bond,  or  deed, 
Reduc'd  a  family  to  need. 
My  will  hath  made  the  world  amends  ; 
My  hope  on  charity  depends. 
When  I  am  nnmber'd  with  the  dead. 
And  ail  my  pious  gifts  are  read, 
Ry  heav'n  aad  earth  'twill  then  be  known 
My  charities  were  amply  shown. 

An  angel  came.  Ah,  friend  I  he  cried. 
No  more  in  flatt'ring  hope  confide.        * 
Can  thy  good  deeds  in  former  times 
Outweigh  the  balance  of  thy  crimes  ? 
What  widow  or  what  orphan  prays 
To  crown  thy  Hfe  Avith  length  of  days  ? 
A  pious  action's  in  thy  pow'r. 
Embrace  with  joy  the  happy  hour: 
Now,  while  you  draw  the  vital  air, 
Prove  your  intention  is  sincere  : 
This  instant  give  a  hundred  pound  ; 
Your  neighbours  want,  and  you  abound. 

Rut  why  such  haste  ?  the  sick  man  Avhines ; 
Who  knows  as  yet  what  heav'n  designs.^ 
Perhaps  I  may  recover  still :     . 
That  sum  and  more  are  in  my  will. 


FABLES   BY  JOHN   GAY. 

Fool,  says  tLe  vision,  tM)w  'tis  plain, 
Your  life,  your  soul,  your  hcav'n  ^Ya3  gain. 
From  ev'rv  side,  with  all  your  might. 
You  scrap'd  and  scrap'd  beyond  your  right; 
And  after  death  would  fain  atone. 
By  giving  what  is  not  your  own. 

While  there  is  life,  there's  hope,  he  cried; 
Then  why  such  haste?  So  groau'd,  and  died. 


>.-V-W%'*'V» 


FABLE  XXVIII. 

THE    PERSIAN,    THE    SUN,    AND    THE    CLOUD. 

J.S  there  a  bard  whom  genius  fires, 
Whose  ev'ry  thought  the  god  inspires  ? 
When  envy  reads  the  nervous  lines. 
She  frets, she  rojls,  she  raves, she  pines; 
Her  hissiu!?  snakes  with  venom  swell ; 
She  calls  her  venal  train  from  hell: 
TSie  seiviie  fiends  her  nod  obey. 
And  all  Curl's  authors  are  in  pay  ; 
Fame  calls  up  calumny  and  spile  : 
Thus  shadow  owes  its  birth  to  light. 

As  prostrate  to  the  god  of  day. 
With  heart  devout,  a  l*crsian  lay, 
His  Luvocatioii  thus  begun  : 

Parent  of  ligli!,  all-seeing  sun, 
rrolillckbeam.  whose  rays  dispense 
The  various  gifts  of  Providence, 
Accept  our  jiraisc,  our  daily  pray'r, 
vSmile  on  our  fields,  and  bless  «he  year. 

A  cloudy  uho  mockd  his  grateful  tongue, 
The  day  with  sudden  darkness  hung  ; 


PART  THE  FIRST.  53 

"With  pride  and  envy  swell'd,  aloud 
A  voice  thus  thunder'd  from  the  cloud  : 

Weak  is  this  gaudy  god  of  thine, 
Whom  I  at  will  forbid  to  shine. 
Shall  I,  nor  vows,  nor  incense  know  ? 
Where  praise  is  due,  the  praise  bestow. 

With  fervent  zeal  the  Persian  mov'd 
Thus  the  proud  calumny  reprov'd. 
It  was  that  god,  who  claims  my  pray  t. 
Who  gave  thee  birth,  and  rais'd  thee  there  ; 
Wiien  o'er  his  beams  the  veil  is  thrown, 
Thy  substance  is  but  plainer  shown. 
A  ])assing  gale,  a  puff  of  wind, 
Dispels  thy  thickest  troops  combiu'd. 

The  gale  arose ;  the  vapour  tost 
The  sport  of  winds  in  air  was  lost, 
The  glorious  orb  the  day  refines. 
Thus  envy  breaks,  thus  merit  shines. 


FABLE    XXIX. 

THE     FOX    AT    THE    POINT    OF    DEATK. 


jr\.  FOX,  in  life's  extreme  decay, 
Weak,  sick,  and  faint,  expiring  Jay ; 
All  appetite  had  left  his  maw, 
And  age  disarm'd  his  mumbling  jaw. 
His  num'rous  race  around  him  stand 
'J'o  learn  their  dying  sire's  command : 
He  rais'd  his  head  with  whining  moan, 
And  thus  was  heard  the  feebJe  tone  : 

Ah,  sons !  from  evil  vrays  depart : 
My  crimes  lie  heavy  on  my  he?.rt. 


54  FABLES   RY   JOHN   GAY. 

See,  see,  the  murder' d  geese  appear  ! 
Why  are  those  b'eediug  trrkeys  there? 
Why  all  around  this  cackLng  train, 
Who  haunt  my  ears  for  chickens  slain? 

The  hungry  foxes  round  tLem  star'd. 
And  for  the  promis'd  feast  prej-arM. 

Where,  Sir,  is  all  this  dainty  cheer? 
Nor  turkey,  goo^e,  nor  hen  is  h(  re. 
These  are  the  phantoms  of  yonr  brain. 
And  your  sons  lick  their  lips  in  vain. 

O  gluttons  I  says  the  drooping  sire, 
Restrain  inordinate  desire. 
Yout'liqu'rish  taste  yon  shall  deplore. 
When  peace  of  conscience  is  no  more. 
Does  not  the  hound  betray  our  pace. 
And  gins  aad  guns  destroy  our  race? 
Thieves  dread  the  searching  eye  of  pow'r, 
And  never  feel  the  quiet  hour. 
Old  age  ,  which  few  of  us  shall  know, 
Now  puts  a  period  to  my  woe. 
Would  you  true  happiness  attain? 
Let  honesty  your  passions  rein. 
So  live  iu  credit  and  esteem, 
And  ,  the  good  name  you  lost,  redeem. 

The  counsel's  good,  a  fox  replies, 
Could  we  perform  what  you  advise. 
Think  what  our  ancestors  have  done  : 
A  line  of  thieves  from  son  to  son  : 
To  us  descends  the  long  disgrace. 
And  infamy  hath  mark'd  our  race. 
Though  we,  like  harmless  sheep,  should  feed 
Honest  in  thought,  in  word,  and  deed  , 
Whatever  hen-roost  is  dccreas'd,' 
We  shall  be  thought  to  share  the  feast. 
The  cha nrre  shall  never  be  believ'd  : 


PART  THE  FIRST. 

Nay,  tlien,  replies  the  feeble  fox. 
But  hark  !  I  hear  a  hen  that  clocks  : 
Go,  but  be  moderate  in  your  food  ; 
A  chicken  too  raisht  do  me  £;ood. 


FABLE   XXX. 


THE    SETTIJfG-DOG    AND    THE    TARTRIDcE- 


X  II E  ranging  dog  the  stubble  tries,      " 
And  searches  ev'ry  breeze  that  flies  ; 
The  scent  grows  -svarm  ;  with  cautious  fear 
He  creeps,  and  points  the  covey  near ;        lUk- 
The  men,  in  silence,  far  behind,  ^^ 

Conscious  of  game,  the  net  unbind. 

A  ;)artridge,  with  experience  wise. 
The  fraudful  pr<  paration  spies  : 
She  mocks  their  toils,  alarms  her  brood; 
The  covey  springs,  and  seeks  the  wood  ; 
But,  ere  her  certain  wing  she  tries, 
Thus  to  the  creeping  spaniel  cries  : 
Thou  fawning  slave  to  man's  deceit, 
Thou  pimp  of  lux'ry,  sneaking  cheat. 
Of  thy  whole  species  thou  disgrace. 
Dogs  should  diso  .n  thee  of  their  race  ! 
For  if  I  judge  their  native  parts. 
They're  bora  with  open  honest  hearts  ; 
And,  ere  they  s.^rv'd  man's  wicked  ends. 
Were  gen'rous  foes,  or  real  friends. 

When  thus  the  dog,  with  scornful  smile  : 
Secure  of  wing,  thou  dar'st  revile. 
Clowns  are  to  polish'd  manners  blind  ; 
How  ignorant 's  the  rustick  mind ! 


5t)  FABLES   BY  JOHN   GAY. 

My  worth  sagacious  courtiers  see, 
And  to  prefermeut  rise,  like  me. 
The  thriving  pimp,  who  beauty  sets. 
Hath  oft  enhance!  a  nation's  debts: 
Friend  sets  his  friends  without  regard  ; 
And  ministers  his  skill  reward  : 
Thus  traiu'd  by  man,  I  learnt  his  ways, 
And  growing  favour  feasts  my  days. 

I  might  have  guess'd,  the  partridge  said, 
The  place  where  you  were  trained  and  fed  : 
Servants  are  apt,  and  in  a  trice 
Ape  to  a  hair  their  master's  vice. 
You  came  from  court,  you  say.  Adieu, 
She  said,  and  to  the  covey  flew. 


FABLE    XXXI. 

THE    UNIVERSAL    APPARITION. 

A-  R  A  K  E,  by  cv'ry  passion  rul'd, 
^Vith  ev'ry  vice  his  yoiilli  had  cool'd ; 
Disease  his  laiuted  blood  assails  ; 
His  spirits  droop,  bis  vigour  fails  : 
With  secret  ills  at  home  he  pines, 
And,  like  inllim  oUl  age,  declines. 

As,  twing'd  with  pain,  he  pensive  sits. 
And  raves,  and  prays,  and  swears  liy  llts  ; 
A  gbastly  phantom,  U^an  and  wan. 
Before  him  rose,  and  thus  began: 

My  name,  perhaps,  bath  reach'd  your  car 
Attend,  and  ])e  advis'd  by  Care  : 
Nor  love,  nor  honour,  wealth,  nor  pow'r. 
Can  give  the  heart  a  cheerful  hour, 


PART  THE  FIRST. 
When  health  is  lost.  Be  timely  wise  : 
With  health  all  taste  of  pleasure  flies. 

Thus  said,  the  phantom  disappears. 
The  wary  counsel  \".ilv'd  his  fears: 
He  now  from  all  excess  abstains, 
With  physick  purilies  his  veins  ; 
And,  to  procure  a  sober  life, 
Resolves  to  venture  on  a  wife. 

But  now  again  the  sprite  ascends. 
Where -e'er  he  walks  his  ear  attends; 
Insinuates  that  beauty's  frail. 
That  perseverance  must  prevail; 
With  jealousies  his  brain  inflames, 
And  whispers  all  her  lovers'  names. 
In  other  hours,  she  represents 
His  household  charge,  his  annual  rents. 
Increasing  debts,  perplexing  duns, 
And  nothing  for  hisi. younger  sons. 

Strait  all  his  thoughts  to  gain  he  turns, 
And  with  the  thirst  of  lucre  burns. 
But  when  possess'd  of  fortune's  store. 
The  spectre  haunts  him  more  and  more  ; 
Sets  want  and  misery  in  view, 
Bold  thieves,  and  all  the  murd'ring  crew; 
Alarms  him  with  eternal  frights. 
Infests  his  dream. or  wakes  his  nights. 
How  shall  he  chase  this  hideous  guest.'' 
Pow'r  may  perhaps  protect  his  rest. 
To  pow'r  he  rose.  Again  the  sprite 
Besets  him  morning,  noon,  and  night ; 
Talks  of  ambition's  tott'ring  seat, 
How  envy  persecutes  the  great, 
Of  r.val  hate,  of  trf  ach'rous  friends, 
And  what  disgrace  his  fall  attends. 

The  court  he  quits  to  fly  from  Care, 
And  seeks  the  peace  of  rural  air : 


58  FABLES    BY   JOHN    GAY. 

His  groves, liis  fields,  amus'd  his  hours  ; 
He  prun'd  his  trees,  he  rais'd  his  flow'rs. 
But  Care  again  his  steps  pursues, 
Warns  him  of  blasts,  <;  blighting  dews. 
Of  plundering  insects,  snails,  and  rains, 
And  droughts  that  starve  the  laboured  plains. 
Abroad,  at  home,  the  spectre's  there; 
In  vain  we  seek  to  fly  from  Care. 

At  length  he  thus  the  ghost  addj'est  : 
Since  thou  must  be  my  constant  guest. 
Be  kind,  and  follow  me  no  inore  ; 
For  Care  by  right  should  go  before. 


FABLE    XXXII. 

THE    TWO     OWLS    AND    THE     SPARROW. 

JL  WO  formal  owls  together  sat, 
Conferring  thus  in  solemn  chat ; 
How  is  the  modei'n  tasti^  decay'd  ! 
Where's  the  respect  to  wisdom  faid  ? 
Our  worth  the  Grecian  sages  knew  ; 
They  :;ave  our  sires  the  honour  due  : 
They  weigh'd  the  dignity  of  fowls, 
And  pried  into  the  depth  of  owls. 
Athens,  the  seat  of  learned  fame. 
With  geu'ral  voire  rever'd  ourname  ; 
On  merit  title  was  conferr'd, 
And  all  ador'd  th'  Athenian  bird. 

Brother,  you  reason  well,  replies 
The  solemn  mate,  with  lialf-shut  eyes  ; 
Right.  Athens  was  the  seat  of  learning. 
And  truly  wisdom  is  discerning. 


PARr  THE  FIRST.  5^ 

Resides,  on  Pallas'  helm  we  sir,* 
The  type  and  ornameat  of  wit : 
Bat  now,  alas  I  we're  quite  neglected, 
And  a  pert  sparrow's  more  respected. 

A  sparrow,  who  was  lodi^'d  beside, 
O'erhears  them  sooth  each  other's  pride, 
And  thus  he  nimbly  vents  his  heat : 

Who  meets  a  fool  must  lind  conceit. 
I  grant,  you  were  at  Athens'grac'd, 
And  on  Minerva's  helm  were  plac'd ; 
Rut  ev'ry  bird  that  wings  the  sky, 
Except  an  owl,  can  tell  you  why. 
From  hence  they  taught  thfeir  schools  to  Inov/ 
How  false  we  judge  by  outward  show  ; 
That  we  should  never  looks  esteem. 
Since  fools  as  wise  as  you  might  seem. 
Woidd  ye  contempt  and  scorn  avoid, 
Let  your  vain  glory  be  destroy'd  : 
Humble  your  arrogance  of  thought. 
Pursue  the  ways  by  nature  taught ; 
So  shall  ye  f»nd  delicious  fare. 
And  grateful  farmers  praise  your  care  ; 
So  shall  sleek  mice  your  chase  reward, 
And  no  keen  cat  find  niore  regard. 


FABLE    XXXIII. 


THE    r.OUrvTIER    A>"D    PROTELS. 


w, 


hene'er  a  courtier's  out  of  place. 
The  country  shelters  his  disgrace; 
WTierc,  iloora'd  to  exercise  and  health. 
His  house  and  gardens  own  his  A\d5iih. 


6o  FABLES   BY   JOHN    GAY. 

He  builds  new  schemes ,  in  hope  to  gain  i 

The  plunder  of  another  reign ;  i! 

Like  Philip's  son,  would  fain  be  doing,  |! 

And  sighs  for  other  realms  to  ruin.  .*' 

As  one  of  these ,  without  his  wand  ,  i 

Pensive  along  the  winding  strand,  ! 

Employ'd  the  solitary  hour 

In  projects  to  regain  his  pow'r  ;  \. 

The  waves  in  spreading  circles  ran,  \'; 

Proteus  arose,  and  thus  began  :  il 

Came  you  from  court  ?  For  in  your  mien  jl 

A  self-important  air  is  seen.  i 

He  frankly  oWn'd  his  friends  had  trick'd  him,    : 
And  how  he  fell  his  party's  victim. 

Know,  says  the  god,  by  matchless  skill  ',\ 

I  change  to  ev'ry  shape  at  will ; 
But  yet,  I'm  told  at  court  you  see 
Those  who  presume  to  rival  me.  ! 

Thus  said.  A  snake  with  hideous  trail, 
Proteus  extends  his  scaly  mail.  ; 

Know,  says  the  man,  though  proud  in  place,  ;; 
All  courtiers  are  of  reptile  race. 
Like  you  they  take  that  dreadful  form, 
Bask  in  the  sun,  and  fly  the  storm  ; 
With  malice  hiss,  with  envy  glote,  ' 

And  for  convenience  change  their  coat;  I 

With  new-got  lustre  rear  their  head,  J 

Though  on  a  dunghill  born  and  bred. 

Sudden  the  god  a  lion  stands  ;  ! 

He  shakes  his  mane,  he  spurns  the  sands  ;  i 

Now  a  lierce  lynx,  with  lieiy  glare, 
A  wolf,  an  ass.  a  fox,  a  bear. 

Had  I  ne'er  liv'd  at  court,  he  cries,  ! 

Such  transformation  mijjlit  surprise; 
But  there,  in  quest  of  daily  game,   , 
.Each  able  courtier  acts  the  same. 


PART  THE  FIRST.                    6i  ] 

Wolves ,  lions ,  lynxes,  wliile  in  place,  ' 
Their  friends  and  fellows  are  their  chase. 
They  play  the  hear's  and  fox's  part; 

Now  roh  hy  force,  now  steal  with  art.  1 

They  sometimes  in  the  senate  bray  ;  J 

Or,  chang'd  again  to  beasts  of  prey,  j 
Down  from  the  lion  to  the  ape,                                           ■    i 

Practise  the  frauds  of  ev'ry  shape.  ■ 

So  said.  Upon  the  god  he  flies,  ' 

In  cords  the  struggling  captive  ties.  J 
Now  Proteus,  now,  to  truth  compell'd, 
Speak,  and  confess  thy  art  excell'd. 

Use  strength,  surprise,  or  what  you  will,  \ 

The  courtier  finds  evasions  still :  j 

Not  to  be  bound  by  any  ties,  i 

And  never  fore' d  to  leave  his  Lies.  J 


FABLE    XXXIV. 

TUE     MASTIFFS. 

JL  uosE  who  in  quarrels  interpose, 
Must  often  wipe  a  bloody  nose. 

# 
A  mastiff,  of  true  english  blood, 
Lov'd  lighting  better  than  his  food. 
When  dogs  were  snarling  for  a  bone, 
He  long'd  to  make  the  war  his  own, 
And  o.'len  found,  when  two  contend, 
To  interpose  obtain'd  his  end  : 
He  glory'd  in  his  limping  pace  ;       \ 
The  scars  of  honour  seam'd  his  face  : 
In  ev'ry  limb  a  gash  appears. 
And  frequent  fi.ehts  rctrench'd  his  cars. 

0 


62  TABLES   BY  JOHN    GAY. 

As,  on  a  time,  he  heard  from  far 
Two  dogs  engag'd  in  noisy  war. 
Away  he  scours,  and  lays  about  him, 
Resolv'd  no  fray  should  be  without  him. 

Forth  from  his  yard  a  tanner  flies. 
And  to  the  bold  intruder  cries: 

A  cudgel  shall  correct  your  manners. 
Whence  sprung  this  cursed  hate  to  tanners? 
While  on  my  dog  you  vent  your  spite, 
Sirrah!  'tis  me  you  dare  not  bite. 

To  see  the  battle  thus  perplex'd. 
With  equal  rage  a  butcher  vex'd, 
Hoarse-scx'eaming  from  the  circled  crowd. 
To  the  curs'd  Mastiff  cries  aloud  : 

Both  Hockley-hole  and  Mary-bone 
The  combats  of  my  dog  have  known. 
He  ne'er,  like  bullies  coward-hearted,     . 
Attacks  in  publick  ,to  be  parted. 
Think  not,  rash  fool,  to  share  his  fame  ; 
Be  his  the  honour  or  the  shame. 

Thus  said,  they  swore  and  rav'd  like  thunder : 
Then  dragg'd  their  fasten'd  dogs  asundt-r  - 
W^hile  clubs  and  kicks  from  ev'ry  side 
Rebounded  from  the  mastifl's  hide. 

All  reeking  now  witb  sweat  and  blood. 
Awhile  the  parted  warriors  stood, 
Then  pour'd  upon  the  meddling  foe ; 
Who,  worry' d,  howl'd,  and  sprawl'd  below. 
He  rose;  and, limping  from  the  fray. 
By  both  sides  mangled,  sneak'd  away. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  65 


FABLE   XXX V/ 


THE    BARLEY-MOW    AND    THE    DUNGHILL. 

Jtlow  maay  saucy  airs  we  meet 

From  Temple-bar  to  Aldgate  street .' 

Proud  rogues,  who  shar'd  the  soulh-sea  prey, 

And  sprung  hke  mushrooms  in  a  day  ! 

They  think  it  mean  to  condescend 

To  know  a  brother  or  a  friend ; 

They  blush  to  hear  their  mother's  name, 

And  by  their  pride  expose  their  shame. 

As  cross  his  yard,  at  early  day,       « 
A  careful  farmer  took  his  way, 
He  stop'd;  and, leaning  on  his  fork, 
Observ'd  the  flail's  incessant  work. 
In  thought  he  measur'd  all  his  store. 
His  geese,  his  hogs,  he  number'd  o'er ; 
In  fancy  weigh'd  the  fleeces  shorn. 
And  multiplied  the  next  year's  corn. 

A  barley-mow,  which  stood  beside, 
Thus  to  its  musing  master  cried  : 

Say,  good  Sir,  is  it  lit,  or  right. 
To  treat  me  wnth  neglect  and  slight? 
Me,  who  contribute  to  your  cheer. 
And  raise  your  mirth  with  ale  and  beer.' 
Why  thus  insulted,  thus  disgrac'd. 
And  that  vile  dunghill  near  me  plac'd  ? 
Are  those  poor  sweepings  of  a  groom, 
That  filthy  sight,  that  nauseous  fume. 
Meet  objects  here?  Command  it  hence  .' 
A  thing  so  mean  must  give  offence. 


64  FABLES   BY   JOHN   GAY. 

The  humble  Dunghill  thus  replied : 
Thy  master  hears  and  mocks  thy  pride  : 
Insult  not  thus  the  meek  and  low  ; 
In  me  thy  benefactor  know  ; 
My  warm  assistance  £>ave  thee  birth. 
Or  thou  hadst  perish 'd  low  in  earth. 
But  upstarts,  to  support  their  station, 
Cancel  at  once  all  oblisfation. 


FABLE    XXXVI. 

TTTHAGORAS    AKD    THE    COUNTRYMAir. 


jrYTHA.G'RAs  Tose  at  early  dawn, 

By  soaring  meditation  drawn. 

To  breathe  the  fragrance  of  the  day. 

Through  flow'ry  licids  he  took  his  way. 

In  musing  contemjdation  warm, 

His  steps  misled  him  to  a  farm. 

Where  on  the  ladder's  topmost  round 

A  peasant  stood  ;  the  hammer's  sound 

Shook  the  we»k  barn.  Say,  friend,  what  cai 

Calls  for  thy  honest  labour  there  ? 

The  clown  with  surly  voice  replies, 
Vengeance  aloud  for  justice  cries. 
This  kite,  by  daily  rapine  fed, 
My  hens'  annoy,  my  turkeys'  dread. 
At  length  his  forfeit  life  hath  paid  ; 
See  on  the  wall  his  wings  display'd, 
Here  naii'd,  a  terroi'  to  his  kind. 
My  fowls  shall  future  safety  find  : 
My  yard  the  thriving  })Oultry  feed. 
And  my  barn's  refuse  fat  the  breed. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  65 

Friend,  says  the  sage,  the  doom  is  wise  : 
For  puhhck  good  the  raurd'rer  dies, 
iiut  if  these  tyraats  of  the  air 
Demand  a  sentence-so  severe, 
Think  how  the  glutton  man  devours  ; 
What  bloody  feasts  regale  his  hours  ! 
O  impudence  of  pow'r  and  might , 
Thus  to  condemn  a  hawk  or  kite, 
When  thou  perhaps,  carniv'rous  sinner, 
Hadst  pullets  yesterday  for  dinner  ! 

Hold,  cried  the  clown,  with  passion  heated, 
Shall  kites  and  men  aUke  be  treated  ? 
When  heav'n  the  world  with  creatures  stor'd, 
Man  was  ordain'd  their  sov'reign  lord. 

Thus  tyrants  boast,  the  sage  replied  , 
Whose  murders  spring  from  pow'r  and  pride. 
Own  then  this  manUke  kite  is  slain 
Thy  greater  lux'ry  to  sustain; 
For  «  Petty  rogues  submit  to  fate, 
«  That  great  ones  may  enjoy  their  state,  (i)  » 


FABLE    XXXVII, 

TaE  farmer's  wife  and  the  ravlx. 

V  V  HY  are  those  tears  .^  Why  droops  your  head.' 
Is  then  your  other  husband  dead? 
Or  does  a  worse  disgrace  betide  ? 
Hath  no  one  since  his  death  applied? 

Alas  !  you  know  the  cause  too  well  : 
The  salt  is  spilt,  to  me  it  fell. 


(i)  Garth's  dispensary. 


65  FABLES    BY   JOHN  GAY. 

Then  to  contribute  to  my  loss, 
My  knifeand  fork  were  laid  across  ; 
Oa  friday  too  .'  the  day  I  dread  ; 
Would  I  were  safe  at  home  iij  bed  ! 
Last  uight  (  I  vow  to  heav'n  'tis  true  ) 
Bounce  from  the  fire  a  coffin  flew  ; 
Next  post  some  fatal  news  shall  tell, 
God  send  my  Coriiisli  friends  be  well  ! 
Unhnppy  widow,  cease  thy  tears, 
•  Nor  feel  afiliction  in  thy  fears  ; 
Let  not  thy  stomach  be  suspended  ; 
Eat  now,  and  weep  when  dinner's  ended  ; 
And,  when  the  butler  clears  the  table, 
Tor  thy  desert  I'll  read  my  f;\ble. 

Betwixt  her  swagginjj  pannier's  load 
A  farmer's  wife  to  market  rode. 
And,  jogging  on,  with  thoughtful  care 
Summ'd  up  the  profits  of  her  wr.re ; 
When,  starting  from  her  silver  dream. 
Thus  far  and  wide  v,as  heard  her  scre;;m. 

That  raven  on  yon  left-hand  oak 
(  Curse  on  his  ill-betiding  croak  ) 
Bodes  rae  no  good.  No  more  she  said, 
When  poor  blind  Ball,  with  stumbling  tread^ 
Fell  prone;  o'erturu'd  the  pannier  lay, 
And  her  mash'd  eggs  bestrevv'd  the  way. 

She,  sprawling  in  the  yellow  road, 
Rail'd,  swore,  and  curs'd.  Thou  croaking  load, 
A  murrain  take  thy  whoreson  throat ! 
I  knew  misfortune  in  the  note. 

Dame,  quoth  the  Raven,  spare  your  oaths, 
Uuclench  your  fist,  and  wipe  your  cloaths. 
But  why  on  me  those  curses  thrown  .'' 
Goody,  the  fault  was  all  your  own  ; 


PART  THE  I  IP^ST.  Cn 

For  had  vou  laid  this  brittle  ware 

On  Dun,  the  old  sure-lootcd  mare. 

Though  all  the  ravens  of  the  hundred. 

With  croaking  had  your  tongue  out-ihundor'J, 

Sure-footed  Dun  had  kept  her  legs , 

And  you,  good  woman,  sav'd  your  eggs. 


FABLE    XXXYIII. 

THE  TURKEY  AXD  THE  A>'T. 

±N  other  men  we  faults  can  spy. 
And  blame  the  mote  that  dims  their  eye, 
Each  httle  speck  and  blemish  lind, 
To  our  own  stronger  errors  blind. 

A  turkey,  tir'd  of  common  food, 
Forsook  the  barn,  and  sought  the  wood  ; 
Behind  her  ran  her  infant  train. 
Collecting  here  and  there  a  grain. 
Draw  near,  my  birds,  the  mother  cries, 
This  hill  delicious  fare  sup])lies  ; 
Behold,  the  busy  negro  race, 
See,  millions  blacken  all  the  place  ! 
Fear  not :  like  me  with  freedom  eat  • 
An  ant  is  most  dehghtful  meat. 
How  bless'd,  how  envy'd  were  our  life . 
Could  we  but  'scape  the  pottlt'rer's  knife  J 
But  man,curs'd  man,  on  turkeys  prcvs, 
And  Christmas  shortens  all  our  days  : 
Sometimes  with  ovster:-  we  combine, 
Sometimes  assist  the  sav'ry  chine  ; 


6S  FABLES   BY  JOHN    GAY. 

From  the  low  peasant  to  the  lord, 
The  turkey  smokes  on  ev'ry  board. 
Sure  men  for  gluttony  are  curs'd, 
Of  the  sev'n  deadly  sins  the  worst. 

An  ant,  who  climb'd  beyond  her  reach, 
Thus  answer'd  from  the  neighh'ring  beech 
Ere  you  remark  another's  sin, 
Bid  thy  own  conscience  look  within  : 
Controul  thy  more  voracious  bill. 
Nor  for  a  breakfast  nations  kill. 


»,'».%.'«/»;v»/».*-k'». 


FABLE    XXXIX. 

THE   FATHER   AND    JUPITER. 

J.  HE  man  to  Jove  his  suit  preferr'd  ; 
He  begg'd  a  wife.  His  pray'r  was  heard. 
.Tove  wonder'd  at  his  bold  addressing  : 
For  how  precarious  is  the  blessing  .' 

A  wife  he  takes.  And  now  for  heir» 
Again  he  worries  heav'n  with  pray'rs. 
.love  nods  asseut.  T\^o  hopeful  boys 
And  a  line  girl  reward  his  joys. 

Now'raore  solicitous  he  grew, 
And  set  their  future  live  *]u  view  ; 
He  saw  that  all  respect  and  duty 
Were  paid  to  wealth,  to  pow'r,  and  beauty. 

Once  more  he  cries.  Accept  my  pray'r  : 
Make  my  lov'd  progeny  thy  care. 
Let  my  lirst  hope,  my  fav'rite  boy, 
A.11  fortune's  richest  gifts  enjoy. 
My  next  with  strong  ambition  fire  : 
May  favour  teach  him  to  aspire  ; 


PART  THE  i  HIST.  Gy 

Till  he  llie  step  of  povv'r  ascend. 
And  courtiers  to  their  idol  bend. 
With  ev'ry  grace,  with  ev'ry  charm. 
My  daughter's  perfect  features  arm. 
If  heav'n  approve,  a  father's  blest, 
Jove  smiles,  and  grants  his  full  request. 

The  first,  a  raiser  at  the  heart, 
Studious  of  ev'ry  giiping  art, 
Heaps  hoards  on  hoards  with  anxious  pain , 
And  ail  his  life  devotes  to  gain. 
He  feels  no  [oy ,  his  cares  increase, 
He  neither  wakes  nor  sleeps  in  jicace  ; 
In  fancy'd  want  (  a  wretch  complete  ) 
He  starves,  and  yet  he  dares  not  eat. 

The  next  to  sudden  honours  grew  : 
The  thriving  art  of  courts  he  knew  : 
He  reach' d  the  height  of  pow'r  and  place ; 
Then  fell  the  victim  of  disgrace. 
Beauty  with  early  bloom  supplies 
His  daughter's  check,  and  points  her  eyes. 
The  vain  coquette  each  suit  disdains  , 
And  glories  in  her  lover's  pains. 
With  age  she  fades,  e?ch  lover  flies, 
Contemn' d,  forlorn,  she  pines  and  dies. 

When  Jove  the  father's  grief  survey 'd, 
And  heard  him  heav'n  and  fate  upbraid, 
Thus  spoke  the  God  :  P.y  outward  show. 
Men  judge  of  happiness  and  woe  : 
Shall  ignorance  of  good  and  ill 
Dare  to  direct  th'  eternal  wilL^ 
Seek  virtue  ;  and  of  that  possest, 
To  Providence  resign  the  rest. 


FABLES    RY   JOHN     GAY. 


i.-V».^/»<^%.7 


FABLE    XL. 

THE  TWO  MONKEYS. 

±  HE  learned,  full  of  inward  pride, 
The  fops  of  outward  show  deride  ; 
The  fop,  with  learning'  at  defiance, 
Scoffs  at  the  pedant  and  the  science  : 
The  Don,  a  formal,  solemn  strutter, 
Despises  Monsieur's  airs  and  flutter; 
While  Monsieur  mocks  the  formal  fool, 
Who  looks,  and  speaks,  and  walks  by  rule. 
Britain,  a  medley  of  the  twain, 
As  pert  as  France,  as  grave  as  Spain , 
In  fancy  wiser  than  the  rest. 
Laughs  at  them  both,  of  both  the  jest. 
Is  not  the  Poet's  chiming  close 
Censur'd  by  all  the  sons  of  prose  .•* 
While  bards  of  quick  imagination 
Despise  the  sleepy  prose  uarratibn. 
Men  laugh  at  apes  ,  they  men  contemn ; 
For  what  are  we  but  apes  to  them.^* 

Two  monkeys  went  to  Southwarkfair, 

No  criticks  had  a  sourer  air  : 

They  forc'd  their  way  through  draggled  folks. 

Who  gaji'd  to  catch  Jack-pudding's  jokes; 

Then  took  their  tickets  for  the  show, 

And  got  by  chance  the  foremost  row. 

To  see  their  grave  observing  face 

Provok'd  a  laugh  through  all  the  place. 

Brother,  says  pug,  and  turn'd  his  head. 
The  rabble's  monstrously  ill  bred. 


PART  THE  FIRST.  71 

Now  through  the  booth  loud  hisses  ran, 
Nor  ended  till  the  show  began. 
The  tumbler  whirls  the  flip-flap  round, 
With  somersets  he  shakes  the  ground  ; 
The  cord  beneath  the  dancer  springs  : 
Aloft  in  air  the  vaulter  swings  ; 
Distorted  now,  now  prone  depends. 
Now  through  his  twistell  arms  ascends  : 
The  crowd,  in  wonder  and  delight. 
With  clapping  hands  applaud  the  sight. 

With  smiles,  quoth  pug  :  If  pranks  hke  these 
The  giant  apes  of  reason  please. 
How  would  they  wonder  at  our  arts  .' 
They  must  adore  us  for  our  parts. 
High  on  the  twig  I've  seen  you  cling  ; 
Play,  twist  and  turn,' in  airy  ring  : 
How  can  those  clumsy  things,  like  me, 
Fly  with  a  bound  from  tree  to  tree.^ 
But  yet,  by  this  applause,  we  find 
These  emulators  of  our  kind 
Discern  our  worth,  our  parts  regard. 
Who  our  mean  mimicts  thus  reward. 
Brother,  the  grinning  mate  replies, 
In  this  I  grant  that  man  is  wise. 
While  good  example  they  pursue. 
We  must  allow  some  praise  is  due  ; 
But.  when  they  strain  beyond  their  guide, 
I  lau.ofh  to  scorn  the  mimick  pride. 
For  how  fantastick  is  the  sight, 
To  meet  men  always  bolt  upright, 
Becaus«  we  sometimes  walk  on  tViO  ? 
I  hate  the  imitaling  crew. 


72  FABLES   BY  JOHN  GAY. 


FABLE     XLI. 


THE   OWL  AND   T3E  FARMER. 


XX  N  owl  of  grave  deport  and  uiien, 

Who  ,  like  the  Turk,  was  seldom  seen, 

Within  a  barn  had  chose  his  station, 

As  iit  for  prey  and  contemplation. 

Upon  a  beam  aloft  he  sits. 

And  nods,  and  seems  to  think  hy  fits  : 

So  have  I  seen  a  man  of  news. 

Or  post-hoy,  or  gazette  peruse  ; 

Smoke,  nod,  arid  talk  with  voice  profound, 

And  iix  the  fate  of  Europe  round. 

Sheaves  pil'd  on  sheaves  hid  all  the  floor  : 
At  dawn  of  morn  ,  to  view  his  store 
The  farmer  came.  The  hooting  guest 
His  self-importance  thus  exprest : 

Reason  in  man  is  mere  pretence  ; 
How  weak,  how  shallow  is  his  sense  .' 
To  treat  with  »^corn  the  bird  of  night, 
Declares  his  folly  or  his  spite. 
Then,  too,  how  partial  is  his  praise  J 
The  lark's,  the  linnet's  chirping  lays 
To  his  ill-judging  cars  are  fine  ; 
And  nightingales  are  all  divine. 
But  the  more  knowing  feather'd  race 
See  wisdom  stamp'd  upon  my  face. 
Whene'er  to  visit  light  I  deign. 
What  flocks  of  foAvl  compose  my  train  .' 
Like  slaves,  they 
And  own  me  of  superior  kind. 


PART    THE  FIRST. 
The  farmer  laugh'd,  and  thus  replied  : 
Thou  dull  important  lump  of  pride, 
Dar'st  tliou  vvith  that  liarsh  grating  tongue 
Depreciate  birds  of  warbling  song  ? 
Indulge  thy  spleen.  Know,  men  and  fowl 
Regard  thee, as  thou  art,  an  owl. 
Besides,  proud  blockhead,  be  not  vain 
Of  what  thou  call'st  thy  slaves  and  train. 
Few  follow  wisdom  or  her  rules ; 
Fools  in  derision  follow  fools. 


FABLE     XLII. 

THE    JUGGLERS. 

A.  JUGGLER  long  through  all  the  town 
Had  rais'd  his  fortune  and  renown  ; 
You'd  think  (  so  far  his  art  transcends  ) 
The  devil  at  his  lingers'  ends. 

Vice  heard  his  fame,  she  read  his  bill ; 
Conviuc'd  of  his  inferior  skill, 
She  sought  his  booth,  and  from  the  crowd 
Defied  the  man  of  art  aloud. 

Is  this  then  he  so  fam'd  for  slight  ? 
Can  this  slow  bungler  cheat  your  sight  ? 
Dares  he  with  me  dispute  the  prize  ? 
I  leave  it  to  impartial  eyes. 

Provok'd,  the  juggler  cried:  'Tis  done: 
In  science  I  submit  lo  none. 

Thus  said.  The  cups  and  balls  he  play'd 
P)y  turns,  this  here,  that  there,  convev'd. 
The  cards,  obedient  to  his  words. 
Are  by  a  fillip  turn'd  to  birds. 
His  little  boxes  change  the  grain  : 
Trick  after  trick  deludes  the  train. 


'^^ 


\ 

FABLES   BY  JOHN   GAY. 
He  shakes  his  bag,  he  shews  all  fair; 
His  imgers  spread,  and  nothing  there  ; 
Then  bids  it  rain  with  show'rs  of  gold. 
And  now  his  iv'i  y  eggs  are  told. 
But,  when  from  thence  the  hen  he  draws, 
Amaz'd  spectators  hum  applause. 

Vice  now  stept  forth,  and  took  the  place 
With  alt  the  forms  of  his  grimace. 

This  magick  looking-glass,  she  cries, 
(  There,  hand  it  round)  will  charm  >  our  eyes. 
Each  eager  eye  the  sight  desir'd. 
And  ev'ry  man  himself  admir'd. 

Next,  to  a  senator  addressing  : 
See  this  bank-note  ;  observe  the  blessing. 
Breathe  on  the  bill.  Heigh, pass  !  'Tis  gone. 
Upon  his  lips  a  padlock  shown  : 
A  second  puff  the  magick  broke  ; 
The  padlock  vanish VI  and  he  spoke. 
Twelve  bottles  rang'd  upon  the  board, 
All  full,  v/ith  heady  liquor  stor'd. 
By  clean  conveyance  disappear, 
xVnd  now  two  bloody  swords  are  there. 

A  purse  she  lo  a  thief  expos'd  ; 
At  once  his  ready  fingers  clos'd  : 
He  opes  his  list,  the  treasure's  Hed  ; 
He  sees  a  halter  in  its  stead. 

She  bids  ambition  hold  a  wand  ; 
He  grasps  a  hatchet  in  his  hand. 

A  box  of  charity  she  shows ; 
Blow  here  ;  and  a  church-warden  blows. 
'Tis  vanish'd  with  conveyance  neat, 
And  on  the  table  smokes  a  treat. 

She  shakes  the  dice,  the  board  she  knocks, 
And  from  all  pockets  fills  her  box. 

She  next  a-  meagre  rake  add  rest : 
This  picture  see  ;  her  shape,  her  breast ; 


PAKX    Tfii:    riRST. 
What  youth,  and  what  invitinff  eyes  I 
Hold  her,  and  have  her.  With  surprise, 
His  hand  expos'd  a  box  of  pills, 
Aud  a  loud  laugh  proclaim'd  his  ills. 

A  counter,  in  a  misers  hand, 
Grew  twenty  guiueas  at  command; 
She  bids  his  heir  the  sum  retain, 
And  'tis  a  counter  now  again. 

A  guinea  with  her  touch  you  see 
Take  ev'ry  shape  but  charit\  ; 
And  not  one  thing  you  saw,  or  drew, 
Rut  chang'd  from  what  was  first  in  view. 

The  juggler,  now  in  grief  of  heart, 
With  this  submission  own'd  her  art. 
Can  I  such  matchless  slii;ht  withstand  ? 
How  practice  hath  improv'd  yoni'  haud  '. 
Rut  now  and  then  I  cheat  the  throng, 
You  ev'ry  day,  and  all  day  long. 


FABLE     XLIII. 

THE    COU^CIL    OF   KORSES. 


Lj  PON  a  time  a  neighing  steed, 
Who  graz'd  among  a  num'rous  breed  , 
AVith  mutiny  had  fir'd  the  train. 
And  spread  dissention  through  the  plain. 
On  matters  that  concern'd  the  state 
The  council  met  in  grand  debate. 
A  colt,  whose  eye-balls  fl.im'd  willi  ire, 
Elate  with  strength  and  youthful  fire, 
In  haste  stept  forth  before  the  rest. 
And  thus  the  list'ning  throng  addrest : 
Good  gods  !  how  abject  is  our  race, 


FABLES   BY   JOHN   GAY. 

Sliall  we  our  servitude  retain, 
Because  our  sires  have  borne  the  chain  i' 
Consider,  friends,  your  strength  and  might : 
'Tis  conquest  to  assert  your  right. 
HoAV  cumb'rous  is  the  gikled  coach  .' 
The  pride  of  man  is  our  reproach. 
Were  we  design'd  for  daily  toil, 
To  drag  the  plongh-share  through  the  soil.^ 
To  sweat  in  harness  through  the  road, 
To  groan  beneath  the  carrier's  load  i' 
How  feeble  are  the  two  legg'd  kind  ! 
What  force  is  in  our  nerves  combin'd  1 
Shall  then  our  nobler  jaws  submit 
To  foam  and  champ  the  galling  bit? 
Shall  haughty  man  my  back  bestride  ? 
Shall  the  sharp  spur  provoke  my  side  ? 
Forbid  it  heav'us  I  Reject  the  rein ; 
Your  shame,  your  infamy  disdain. 
Let  him  the  lion  first  controui, 
And  still  the  tyger's  famish'd  growl. 
Let  us,  like  them,  our  freedom  claim, 
And  make  him  tremble  at  our  name. 

A  gen'ral  nod  approv'd  the  cause. 
And  all  the  circle  neigh'd  applause. 

When,  lo  .'  with  grave  and  solemn  pace, 
A  steed  advanc'd  before  the  race. 
With  a!:;e  and  long  e.Yperience  wise  ; 
Around  he  cast  his  thoughtful  eyes, 
And,  to  the  murmurs  of  the  train. 
Thus  spoke  the  Nestor  of  the  plain  : 

When  !  had  health  and  strength  like  you, 
The  toils  of  servitude  I  knew. 
.Now  grateful  man  rewards  my  pains, 
And  gives  me  all  these  wide  domains. 
At  will  I  crop  the  year's  increase ; 
My  latter  life  is  rest  and  peace. 


PART    THE   FIRST. 
I  fjraat  to  man  we  lend  our  pains. 
And  aid  him  to  correct  the  plains  : 
But  doth  not  he  divide  the  care, 
Through  all  the  labours  of  the  year? 
How  many  thousand  structures  rise 
To  fence  us  from  inclement  skies .' 
For  us  he  bears  the  suhry  day,  » 
And  stores  up  all  our  winter's  hay. 
He  sows,  he  reaps  the  harvest's  gain  ; 
We  share  the  toil  and  share  the  grain. 
Since  ev'ry  creature  was  decreed 
To  aid  each  other's  mutual  need, 
Ap];ease  your  discontented  mind, 
Aud  act  the  part  by  heav'n  assign'd. 

Tiie  tumult  ceasV.1.  The  colt  submitted, 
And,  like  his  ancestors,  was  bitted. 


^       F  A  B  L  E  X  1. 1  V. 

THE    H0T:?<rD    A?fD    THE    nUXTSMAX. 

Impertinence  at  first  is  borne 
With  heedless  slight,  or  smiles  of  scorn  : 
Teaz'd  into  wrath,  what  patience  bears 
The  noisy  fool  who  perseveres  ? 

The  morning  wakes,  the  hnutsman  sounds 
At  once  rush  forth  the  joyful  houndr. 
They  seek  the  wood  with  eag<  r  pace. 
Thro"  bush,  thro'  bri'r,  explore  the  cliace. 
ISow  scatter'd  wide  they  try  the  plain, 
And  snuff  the  dewy  turf  in  vain. 
What  care,  what  industns  what  pains  I 
What  universal  silence  reigns ! 


FABLES  BY    JOHN    GA.Y. 

Riugwooil,  a  dog  of  little  fame, 
Young,  pert,  and  ignorant  of  game, 
At  once  displays  his  babbling  throat ; 
The  pack,  regardless  of  the  note. 
Pursue  the  scent ;  with  louder  strain 
He  still  persists  to  vex  the  train. 

The  hujitsman  to  the  clamour  flies  ; 
The  smacking  lash  he  smartly  plies; 
His  ribs  all  welk'd,  with  ho\\ling  tone 
The  puppy  thus  express'd  his  moan  : 
I  know  the  masick  of  my  tongue 
Long  since  the  pack  with  envy  stun^r. 
What  will  not  spite?  These  bitter  smarts 
I  owfl  to  my  superior  parts. 

When  puppies  prate,  the  huntsman  ci  [cci 
They  show  both  ignorance  and  pride  : 
Fools  may  our  scorn,  not  envy  raise. 
For  envy  is  a  kind  of  praise. 
Had  not  thy  forward  noisy  Tongue 
Proclaim'd  thee  always  m  the  wrong. 
Thou  might'st  have  mingled  with  the  res'. , 
And  ne'er  thy  foolish  nose  confcst. 
But  fools,  to  talking  ever  prone. 
Are  sure  to  make  their  follies  known. 


FABLE  X  L  V. 

THE   PO£T  ANTD   THE  ROSr. 

I  HA.TE  the  man  who  builds  his  name 
On  ruins  of  another's  fame. 
Thus  prudes,  by  characters  o'ertbrown, 
Imagine  that  they  raise  their  own. 


PART   THE    FIRST.  79 

Thus  scribblers,  covetous  of  praise, 
Think  slander  can  transplant  the  bays. 
Beauties  and  bards  have  equal  pride, 
With  both  all  rivals  are  decried. 
Who  praises  Lesbia's  eyes  and  feature 
Must  call  her  sister  aukward  creature  ; 
For  the  kind  flatt'ry's  sure  to  charm. 
When  we  some  other  nymph  disarm. 

As  in  the  cool  of  early  day 
A  poet  sought  the  sweets  of  May, 
The  garden's  fragrant  breath  ascends, 
And  ev'ry  stalk  with  odour  bends, 
A  rose  he  pluck'd,  he  gaz'd,  admir'd, 
Thus  singing,  as  the  muse  inspir'd  : 

Go,  rose,  my  Chloe's  bosom  grace  : 

How  happy  should  I  prove, 
Might  I  supply  that  envied  place 

With  never-fading  love  I 
There,  phcenix-like,  beneath  her  eye, 
Involv'd  in  fragrance,  burn  and  die  1 

Know,  hapless  flow'r,  that  thou  shalt  find 

More  fragrant  roses  there  ; 
I  see  thy  wilh'ring  head  reclin'd 

With  euvy  and  despair ! 
One  common  fate  we  both  must  prove  ; 
You  die  with  envy,  I  with  love. 

Spare  your  comparisons,  replied 
An  angry  rose,  who  grew  beside. 
Of  all  mankind  you  should  not  flout  us  ; 
What  can  a  poet  do  without  us .' 
In  ev'ry  love-song  roses  bloom  ; 
Wc  lend  you  colour  and  perfume ; 


8o  TABLES    BY   JOHN   GAY. 

Does  it  to  Chloe's  charms  conduce. 
To  found  her  praise  on  our  abuse  ? 
Must  we,  to  flatter  her,  be  made 
To  wither,  envy,  pine  and  fade? 


FABLE  XLVI. 

THE  CUR,  THE  HOUSE,  AlfD  THE  SHEPHERd's  DOG. 

X  u  E  lad  of  all-sufficient  merit, 
With  modesty  ue'er  damps  his  spirit; 
Presumina;  on  his  own  deserts. 
On  all  alike  his  tongue  exerts  ; 
Jlis  noisy  jokes  at  random  throws. 
And  pertly  spatters  friends  and  foes; 
In  wit  and  war  the  bully  race 
Contribute  to  theix  own  disgrace. 
Too  late  the  forward  youth  shall  find 
That  j  okes  are  sometimes  paid  in  kind  ; 
Or,  if  they  canker  in  the  breast. 
He  makes  a  foe,  who  makes  a  jest. 

A  village-cur,  of  snappish  race, 
The  per^est  puppy  of  the  place, 
Imagin'd  that  his  treble  throat 
Was  bless'd  with  musick's  sweetest  note; 
In  the  mid-road  he  basking  lay, 
The  yelping  nuisance  of  the  way  ; 
l""or  not  a  creature  pass'd  along 
But  had  a  sample  of  his  song. 

Sooaas  tVe  trottiu::  steed  he  hears, 
He  starts,  he  cocks  his  dap})er  ears  ; 
Away  he  scours,  assaults  his  hoof: 
Now  near  him  snarls,  now  barks  aloof; 


PART   THE   FIRST. 

With  shrill  impertinence  attends  ; 
Nor  leaves  him  till  the  village  ends. 

It  chanc'd  upon  his  evil  day, 
A  pad  came  paciug  down  the  way : 
The  cur,  with  never-ceasing  tongue, 
Upon  the  passing  trav'Icr  sprung. 
The  horse,  from  scorn  provok'd  to  ire, 
Flung  backward  :  rolling  in  the  mire 
The  puppy  howl'd,  and  bleeding  lay; 
The  pad  in  peace  pursu'd  his  way. 

A  shepherd's  dog,  v/ho  saw  the  deed, 
Detesting  the  vexatious  breed, 
Bespoke  him  thus  :  When  coxcombs  prate. 
They  kindle  wrath,  contempt,  or  hate  ; 
Thy  teazing  tongue  had  judgment  tied. 
Thou  hadst  not,  like  a  puppy,  died. 


FABLE  XL  VI  I. 

THE    COURT   OF   DKATH. 


D. 


'eath,  on  a  solemn  night  of  state, 
In  all  his  pomp  of  terror  sate  : 
Th'  attendants  of  his  gloomy  reign. 
Diseases  dire,  a  ghastly  train  , 
Crowd  the  vast  court.  With  hollow  tone, 
A  voice  tbus  tbunder'd  from  the  throne  : 

This  night  our  minister  we  name. 
Let  ev'ry  servant  speak  his  claim  ; 
Merit  shall  bear  this  ebon  wand. 
All,  at  the  Avord,  stretch'd  forth  their  hand. 

Fever,  with  burning  heatpossest, 
Advanc'd,  and  for  the  wand  addrest : 

I  to  the  weekly  bills  appeal. 
Let  those  express  my  fervent  zeal ; 


FABLES   BY  JOHN    GAY. 

On  ev'ry  slight  occasion  near, 
With  violence  I  persevere. 

Next  Gout  appears  with  limping  pare, 
Pleads  how  he  shifts  from  place  to  place  : 
From  head  to  foot  how  swift  he  flies, 
And  ev'ry  joint  and  sinew  plies. 
Still  working  when  he  seems  supprt  st, 
A  most  tenacious  stubborn  guest. 

A  haggard  spectre  from  the  crew 
Crawls  forth,  and  thus  asserts  his  due  : 
'Tis  I  who  taint  the  sweetest  joy, 
And  in  the  shape  of  Love  destroy  : 
My  shanks,  sunk  eyes,  and  noseless  face. 
Prove  my  pretension  to  the  place. 

Stone  urg'd  his  ever-growing  force: 
And  next,  Coasumption's  meagre  corse. 
With  feehle  \  oice,  that  scarce  was  heard. 
Broke  with  short  coughs,  his  suit  prcferr'd  ; 
Let  none  object  my  lingering  wj'.t, 
I  gain,  like  I'abius,  by  delay  ; 
Fatigue  aiul  weaken  ev'ry  foe 
By  long  attack,  secure,  though  slow. 

Plague  represents  his  rajiid  pow'r, 
Who  thinn'tl  a  nation  in  an  hour. 

All  spoke  their  claim,  and  hop'd  the  wand. 
Now  expectation  hushd  the  band; 
When  thus  the  monarch  from  the  throne  : 

Merit  was  ever  nioJest  known  ; 
What,  no  Physician  speak  his  right ! 
None  here  I  but  faes  their  toils  requite. 
Let  then  Inteinj)'rance  take  the  wand, 
Who  lills  with  gold  their  zealous  hand: 
You,  Fever,  Gout,  and  all  the  rest, 
Whom  wary  men,  as  foes,  detest, 
Forego  your  claim  ;  no  ir.ore  pretend  ; 
Intemp'ranoc  is  esteem'd  a  friend ; 


PART   THE    FIRST. 
lie  shares  their  mirth,  their  soci;'.!  joys, 
And,  as  a  courted  ^uest,  destroys: 
The  charge  on  him  must  justly  fall 
Who  finds  employment  for  you  all. 


FABLE    X  L  V  I  I  I. 

THE    GARDENER   AND   THE  HOG. 

A  gA-Rd'ner,  of  peculiar  taste, 
On  a  young  hog  his  favour  plac'd, 
Who  fed  not  with  the  common  herd  ; 
His  tray  was  to  the  hall  preferr'd. 
He  wallow'd  underneath  the  hoard, 
Or  in  his  master's  chamber  snord  ; 
Who  fondly  stroak'd  him  ev'ry  day. 
And  taught  him  all  the  puppy's  play. 
Where'er  he  went,  the  grunting  friend 
Ne'er  fail'd  his  pleasure  to  attend. 

As  on  a  time  the  loving  pair 
Walk'd  forth  to  tend  the  garden's  care, 
The  master  thus  address'd  the  swine  : 

My  house  ,  my  garden,  ail  is  thine. 
On  turnips  feast  whene'er  you  please. 
And  riot  in  my  beans  and  pease  ; 
If  the  pota toe's  taste  delights, 
Or  the  red  carrot's  sweet  invites. 
Indulge  thy  morn  and  ev'ning  hours, 
But  let  due  care  regard  my  flow'rs  : 
My  tulips  are  my  garden's  pride  ; 
What  vast  expence  those  beds  supplied  .' 

The  hog, by  chance. one  morning  roam'd 
Where  with  new  ale  the  vessels  foam'd. 
He  munches  now  the  steaming  grains, 
Nou  with  full  swill  the  lirjnor  drains, 


FABLES    BY  JOHN   GAY. 
Intoxicating  fumes  arise; 
He  reels,  he  rolls  his  winking  eyes. 
Then  stagg'ring  thro'  the  garden  scours. 
And  treads  down  painted  ranks  of  flow'rs. 
With  delving  snout  he  turns  the  soil. 
And  cools  his  palate  v/ith  the  spoil. 

The  master  came,  the  ruin  spied, 
Villain  suspend  thy  rage,  he  cried. 
Hast  thou,  thou  most  ungrateful  sot, 
My  charge,  my  only  charge  forgot ;' 
What,  all  my  flow'rs  !  no  more  he  said. 
But  gaz'd  and  sigh'd,  and  hung  his  head. 

The  hog  with  stutt'ring  speech  returns  : 
Explain,  Sir,  why  your  anger  hums. 
See  there,  untouch'd,  your  tulips  strown? 
For  I  devour'd  the  roots  alone. 
At  this  the  gard'ner's  passion  grows  ; 
From  oaths  and  threats  he  fell  to  hlows. 
The  stuhborn  brute  the  blows  sustains  ; 
Assaults  his  leg,  and  tears  the  veins. 

Ah!  foolish  swain,  too  late  you  liud 
That  sties  were  for  such  friends  design'd  ! 
Homeward  he  limps  with  painful  pace, 
Betlecting  thus  on  past  disgrace. 
Whacherishes  a  brutal  mate, 
Shall  mourn  the  folly  soon  or  late. 


I  A  B  L  E  X  L  I  X. 

THE   MAN  AND  THE  FLEA. 


w, 


lETHER  on  earth ,  in  air,  or  main, 
Sure  ev'ry  thing  alive  is  vain! 

Does  not  the  hawk  all  fowls  survey. 
As  destiu'd  only  for  his  prey? 


PART   THE   FIRST. 
And  do  not  tyrants,  prouder  things, 
Think  men  were  bovn  for  slaves  to  kings? 

When  the  crab  views  the  pearly  strands, 
Or  Tagus  bright  with  golden  sands, 
Or  crawls  beside  the  coral  grove, 
And  hears  the  ocean  roil  above  ; 
Nature  is  too  profuse,  says  he, 
Who  gave  alBlhese  to  pleasure  me  I 

When  bord'ring  pinks  and  roses  bloom , 
And  ev'r-v  garden  breathes  perfume; 
When  peaches  glow  with  sunny  dies  ; 
Like  Laura's  cheek,  when  blushes  rise  ; 
When  with  huge  lies  the  branches  bend, 
When  clusters  from  the  vine  depend  ; 
The  snail  looks  round  on  flow'r  and  tree, 
And  cries.  All  these  were  made  for  me  ! 

What  dignity's  in  human  nature  .' 
Says  man,  the  most  conceited  creature, 
As  from  a  cliff  he  cast  h^s  eye. 
And  view'd  the  sea  and  arched  sky ; 
The  sun  was  sunk  beneath  the  main  ; 
The  moon,  and  ail  the  stairy  train, 
Hung  the  vast  vault  of  heav'n.  The  man 
His  contemplation  thus  began  : 

When  I  behold  this  glorious  show, 
And  the  wide  wat'ry  world  below, 
The  scaly  people  ofthe  main. 
The  beasts  that  range  the  wood  or  plain. 
The  wing'd  inhabitants  of  air. 
The  day.  the  night,  the  various  year. 
And  know  all  these  by  heav'n  dcsJgn'd 
As  gifts  to  pleasure  human  kind  ; 
I  cannot  raise  my  worth  too  high  ; 
Of  what  vast  consequence  am  I .' 

Not  of  th'  importance  you  suppose, 
B.epUes  a  flea  upon  his  nose. 

S 


FABLES    P>Y   JOHN   GAY. 
Be  humble,  learn  tliyself  to  scan; 
Know,  pride  was  nevev  made  for  man. 
'Tis  vanity  that  swells  thy  mind. 
What  heav'n  and  earlh  for  thee  designM 
For  thee,  made  only  for  our  need , 
Thnt  mor.j  important  fleas  might  feed. 


F  ABLE  L. 

THE   H.VRE   AND  MANY   FRIENDS. 


J?  RiENDSHip,  like  love,  is  hut  a  name, 
Unless  taouc  you  stint  the  flame. 
The  child  whom  many  fathers  share, 
Hath  seldom  known  a  father's  care. 
'Tis  thus  in  friendships  ;  who  depend 
On  many,  rarely  find  a  friend. 

A  hare,  who  in  a  civil  way. 
Complied  with  ev'ry  thing,  like  Gay, 
Was  known  by  all  the  bestial  train 
>Vho  haunt  the  wood  or  graze  the  plain. 
Her  care  was  never  to  offend  ; 
And  ev'ry  creature  wa^  her  friend. 

As  forth  shfe  went  at  early  dawn. 
To  taste  the  dew-besprinkled  lawu, 
J'chind  she  hears  the  liunter's  cries, 
And  from  the  deep-mouth'd  thunder  flies. 
She  starts,  she  slops,  she  pants  for  breath ; 
She  hears  the  near  advance  of  death ; 
She  doubles  to  mislead  the  hound, 
And  measures  back  her  mazy  round  ; 
Till,  fainting  in  the  ])ublick  way. 
Half  dead  with  fear  she  gasping  lay. 


PART    THE    IircST. 
What  transport  in  her  bosom  grew, 
W'heu  first  the  hoi'se  appear'd  in  view  I 

Let  me,  says  she,  your  back  ascecd, 
And  owe  my  safety  to  a  friend. 
You  know  my  feet  betray  my  flif;ht : 
To  friendship  ev'ry  burden's  light. 

The  horse  replied,  poor  honest  pus."-, 
It  grieves  my  heart  to  see  thee  thus. 
Be  comforted,  relief  is  near  ; 
For  all  your  friends  are  in  the  rear. 

She  next  the  stately  bull  iniplor'd  ; 
And  thus  replied  the  mighty  lord  : 
Since  ev'ry  beast  alive  can  tell 
That  I  sincerely  wish  you  well, 
I  may,  without  offence,  pretend 
To  take  the  freedom  of  a  friend  : 
Love  calls  me  hence  ;  a  fav'rite  cow 
Expects  me  near  yon  barley-mow  ; 
And  when  a  lady's  in  the  case, 
You  know  all  other  things  give  place. 
To  leave  you  thus  might  seem  unkind ; 
But  see,  the  goat  is  inst  behind. 

The  goat  remark'd  her  pulse  was  higb, 
Her  languid  head,  her  heavy  eye. 
My  back,  says  he,  may  do  you  harm  ; 
The  sheep's  at  hand,  and  wool  is  warm. 

The  sheep  was  feeble,  and  complain' d 
His  sides  a  load  of  wool  sustain'd  : 
Said  he  was  slow,  confess'd  his  fears  ; 
For  hounds  eat  sheep  as  well  as  hares. 

She  now  the  trotting  calf  address'd. 
To  save  from  death  a  friend  distressed. 

Shall  I,  says  he,  of  ttnder  age. 
In  this  important  care  engage  i' 
Older  and  abler  pass'd  you  by  ; 
How  strong  are  those  .'  how  weak  am  I ! 


FABLES    BY   JOHN  GAY. 
Should  I  presume  to  bear  you  hence, 
Those  friends  of  mine  may  take  offence. 
Excuse  me  then  ;  vou  know  my  heart  : 
But  dearest  friends,  alas !  must  part. 
How  shall  we  all  lament !  Adieu  : 
For  see  the  hounds  are  just  in  view. 


END    OF    TART    THE    FIRST. 


FABLES. 

PART  THE  SECOND. 

A.DVERTISEMENT. 

These  fables  were  finished  by  Mr.  Gay,  and  iulended  lor 
the  presi,  a  short  time  before  his  death;  wlien  they 
were  left,  with  his  other  papers,  to  the  care  of  his 
noble  friend  and  patron  the  duke  of  Queensberry.  His 
(Irace  has  accordingly  committed  them  to  tlie  press, 
and  they  vrere  printed  from  tlie  originals  in  tlie 
author's  own  hand-writing.  We  hope  they  will  please 
equally  with  liis  former  fables,  though  mostly  on  sub- 
jects of  a  graver  and  more  political  turn.  They  will 
certainly  show  him  to  have  been,  wliat  he  esteemed 
the  best  character,  «  a  man  of  a  truly  honest  heart,  and 
«  a  sincere  lover  of  his  country.  » 

FABLE    I. 

THE    DOG    AND    THE    FOX. 

To  a  Lawyer. 

X  Know  yoa  lawyers  can,  with  ease. 
Twist  words  and  meanings  as  you  please  : 
That  language,  by  your  skill  made  piiaat, 
Will  bend  to  favour  ev'ry  client ; 
That  'tis  the  fee  directs  the  sense. 
To  make  out  either  side's  pretence. 
When  you  peruse  the  clearest  case, 
You  see  it  with  a  double  face  : 


90 


FABLES  BY   JOHN    GAT. 

For  scepticism  is  your  profession  ; 

You  hold  there's  doubt  in  all  expression. 

Hence  Is  the  bar  with  fees  supplied, 
Hence  eloquence  takes  either  side. 
Your  hand  would  have  but  j)aitrr  gleaning, 
Could  ev'ry  man  ex})ress  his  meaning. 
Who  dares  [)rcsume  to  pen  a  deed, 
Unless  you  previously  are  fee'd? 
'Tis  drawn  ;  and  to  augment  the  cost, 
In  dull  prolixity  engrost. 
And  now  we're  well  secur'd  Lt  law. 
Till  the  next  brother  find  a  flaw. 

Read  o'er  a  will.  Was't  ever  kno^vtl, 
But  you  could  make  the  will  your  own  ? 
For  when  you  read,  'tis  with  intent 
To  find  out  meanings  never  meant. 
Since  things  are  thus ,  se  ilefcndendo^ 
I  bar  fallacious  innuendo. 

Sagacious  Porta's  skill  could  trace 
Some  beast  or  bird  in  ev'ry  face  : 
The  head,  the  eye,  the  nose's  shape, 
Prov'd  this  an  owl,  and  that  an  ape : 
When,  in  the  sketches  thus  design'd. 
Resemblance  brings  some  friend  to  mine, 
You  show  the  piece,  and  give  the  hint, 
And  fiad  each  feature  in  the  print; 
So  monstrous  like  the  portrait's  found. 
All  know  it,  and  the  laugh  goes  round. 
Like  him  I  draw  from  geu'ral  nature  : 
Is't  I  or  you  then  fix  the  satire .•* 

So,  Sir,  I  beg  you  spare  your  pains 
In  making  comments  on  my  strains. 
All  private  slander  I  detest, 
I  judge  not  of  my  neighbour's  breast: 
Party  and  prejudice  I  hate, 
And  write  no  libels  on  the  ';tate. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  <)i 

Shall  not  my  Fable  censure  vice, 
Because  a  knave  is  over  nice  ? 
And  lest  the  guilty  hear  and  dread, 
Shall  not  the  decalogue  Le  ix;ad  ? 
If  I  lash  vice  in  gen'ral  fiction, 
Is't  I  apply,  or  self-conviction  ? 
Brutes  arc  my  theme.  Am  I  to  blame. 
If  men  in  morals  are  the  same.^ 
I  no  man  call  an  ape  or  a.ss  ; 
'Tis  his  ov/n  conscience  holds  the  glass. 
Thus  void  of  all  offence  I  write  : 
Who  claims  the  fable,  knov/s  his  right. 

A  shepherd's  dog,  unskili'd  iu  sports  , 
Pick'd  up  acquaintance  of  all  sorts  : 
Among  the  rest  a  fox  he  knew  ; 
By  frequent  chat  their  friendship  grew. 

Says  Reynard,  'Tis  a  cruel  case, 
That  man  should  stigmatize  our  race. 
No  doubt,  among  us  rogues  you  find, 
As  among  dogs  and  human  kind. 
And  yet ,  unknown  to  me  and  you  , 
There  may  be  honest  men  and  true. 
Thus  slander  tries  whate'er  it  can. 
To  put  us  on  the  foot  with  man. 
Let  ray  own  actions  recrmmend  ; 
No  prejudice  can  blind  a  friend: 
You  know  me  free  from  all  disguise  ; 
My  honour  as  my  life  I  prize; 

By  talk  like  this,  from  ail  mistrust 
The  dog  was  cur'd,  and  thought  him  just. 

As  on  a  time  the  fox  held  forth 
On  conscience,  honesty,  and  worth. 
Sudden  he  stopt ;  he  cock'd  his  ear  ; 
Low  dropt  his  brushy  tail  with  fear. 

Bless  us  !  the  hunters  are  abroad. 
What's  all  that  clatter  on  the  road  ? 


FABLES    liY  .JOHN  GAY. 

Hold,  says  the  dog,  we're  safe  from  harin, 
'Twas  nothing  but  a  fajse  alarm  ; 
At  yonder  town  'tis  uiarket-day; 
Some  farmer's  wife  is  on  the  way; 
'Tis  so  ,  I  know  her  pye-ball'd  mare  , 
Daine  Dobbins  with  her  poultry  ware. 

Reynard  jijrew  huff.  Says  he.  This  sneer. 
From  you  I  little  thought  to  hear  ; 
Your  meaning  in  your  looks  I  see. 
Pray  what's  dame  Dobbins,  friend,  to  me  ? 
Did  I  e'er  make  her  poultry  thinner? 
Prove  that  I  owe  the  dame  a  dinner. 

Friend,  quoth  the  cur,  I  meant  no  harm  : 
Then  why  so  captious  ?  why  so  wai'in  ? 
r>Iy  wonls,  in  common  acceptation, 
Could  never  give  this  provocation. 
ISo  lamb  ,  for  aught  I  ever  knew, 
May  be  more  innocent  than  you. 
At  this,  gaird  Reynard  winch'd  and  swore 
Such  language  ne'er  was  giv'n  before. 
What's  lamb  to  me?  The  saucy  hint 
Shews  me,  base  knave,  which  way  you  sqaiut. 
If  t'other  night  your  master  lost 
Three  lambs,  a  m  [  to  pay  the  cost  ? 
Your  vile  reflections  would  imply 
That  I'm  the  thief.  You  dog,  you  lie. 
Thouluiave,  thou  fool,  the  doj;  replied, 
The  name  is-just,  take  either  side; 
Thy  guilt  these  applications  speak: 
Sirrah,  'tis  conscience  makes  you  squeak. 

So  saying,  on  the  fox  he  Ihes. 
The  self-convicted  felon  dies. 


PART   THE   S  ECO  rsD.  (,3 


FABLE    II. 

THE  VULTURE,  THE  SPARROW,  AJTD  OTHFR  BIRDS. 

To  a  friend  in  the  country. 

XiiRE  I  begin,  I  must  premise 
Our  ministers  are  good  and  wise  ; 
So,  thougli  malicious  tongues  apply. 
Pray,  what  care  they,  or  what  care  I  ? 

If  I  am  free  with  courts;  he't  known, 
I  ne'er  presume  to  mean  our  own. 
If  general  morals  seem  to  joke 
On  ministers,  and  such  like  folk, 
A  captious  fool  may  take  offence  ; 
What  then  ?  He  knows  his  own  pretence. 
I  meddle  Avith  no  state-affairs. 
But  spare  my  jest  to  save  my  ears. 
Our  present  schemes  are  too  profound 
For  Machiavel  himself  to  sound  : 
To  censure  'em  I've  no  pretension  ; 
I  own  they're  past  my  comprehension . 

You  say  your  brother  wants  a  place, 
(  'Tis  many  a  younger  brother's  case,) 
And  that  he  very  soon  intends 
To  ply  the  court,  and  teaze  his  friends. 
If  there  his  merits  chance  to  find 
A  patriot  of  an  open  mind. 
Whose  constant  actions  prove  him  just 
To  both  a  king's  and  people's  trust ; 
May  hf,  with  gratitude,  attend, 
And  owe  his  rise  to  such  a  friend. 


94  FABLES   BY    JOHN   GAY. 

You  praise  his  parts  For  bus'ness  lit, 
His  learning:,  probity,  and  wit; 
But  those  alone  will  never  do, 
Unless  his.patron  have  'em  too. 
I've  heard  of  times ,  (pvay  God  defend  us, 
We're  not  so  good  but  he  can  mend  us) 
When  wicked  ministers  have  trod 
On  kings  and  people,  law  and  God  ; 
With  arrogance  they  girt  the  throne. 
And  knew  no  int'rest  J^ut  their  own. 
Then  virtue,  from  preferment  barr'd, 
Gets  nothing  but  its  own  reward. 
A  gang  of  pttty  knaves  attend  'em. 
With  proper  parts  to  recommend  'cm. 
Then  if  his  patron  burn  with  lust, 
The  first  in  favour's  pimp  the  first. 
His  doors  are  never  c'.os'd  to  spies. 
Who  cheer  his  heart  with  double  lies  ; 
They  flatter  him.  his  foes  defame, 
So  lull  the  pangs  of  guilt  and  shame. 
If  schemes  of  lucre  haunt  his  brain, 
Projectors  swell  his  greedy  train: 
Vile  brokers  ply  his  private  eav 
With  jobs  of  plunder  for  the  year  ; 
All  consciences  must  bend  and  ply  ; 
You  must  vote  on,  and  not  know  why  : 
Through  thick  and  thin  you  must  go  on ; 
One  scruple,  and  your  place  is  gone. 
Since  plagues  like  these  have  curs'd  a  land. 
And  fav'rites  cannot  always  stand; 
(rood  courtiers  shonld  for  change  be  read^, 
And  not  have  principles  too  bteady  : 
For  should  a  knave  engross  the  pow'r, 
(God  shield  the  realm  from  that  sad  hour) 
He  must  have  rogues,  or  slavish  fools ; 
I'or  what's  a  knave  without  his  tools.'' 


PART   THE  SECOND. 

Wherever  those  a  people  drain, 
Aad  strut  with  infamy  and  gain; 
I  envy  not  their  guilt  and  state, 
And  scorn  to  share  the  publick  hate. 
Let  their  own  servile  creatures  rise, 
I'y  screening  fi-aud  and  venting  lies  : 
Give  nie,  kind  heav'n,  a  private  station, 
A  mind  serene  for  contemplation: 
Title  and  profit  I  resign  ; 
The  post  of  honour  shall  be  mine. 
I\ly  fable  read,  their  merits  view, 
Then  herd  who  will  with  suoh  a  crew. 

In  days  of  yore,  (my  cautious  rhimes 
Always  except  the  present  times  ) 
A  greedy  vulture,  sldll'd  in  gamfe, 
Inur'd  to  guilt,  unaw'd  by  shame, 
Approach' d  the  throne  in  evil  hour, 
And  step  by  step  intrudes  to  pow'r : 
When  at  the  royal  eagle's  ear. 
He  longs  to  ease  the  monarch's  care. 
The  monarch  grants.  V/ilh  pride  elate, 
Bi-huld  him  minister  of  state  .' 
Around  him  throng  the  feather'd  rout ; 
Friends  must  be  serv'd,  and  some  must  out. 
Each  thinks  his  own  the  best  pretension ; 
This  asks  a  place,  and  that  a  pension  : 
The  nightingale  was  set  aside; 
A  forward  daw  his  room  supplied. 

This  bird ,  says  he,  for  bus'ness  fit, 
Hath  both  sagacity  and  w  it. 
^yith  all  his  turns,  and  shifts,  and  liicl.s, 
He's  docile,  and  at  nothing  sticks. 
Then  with  his  neighbour  s  one  so  free 
At  all  times  will  connive  at  me. 
The  hawk  had  due  distinction  shown. 
For  parts  and  talents  like  his  own . 


96  FABLES    BY  JOHN   GAY. 

Thousands  of  hireling  cocks  attend  him, 
As  bhist'ring  bullies  to  defend  him. 

At  once  the  ravens  were  discarded. 
And  magpies  with  their  posts  rewarded. 

Those  fowls  of  omen  I  detest, 
That  pry  into  another's  nest : 
Stale  lies  must  lose  all  good  intent ; 
For  they  foresee  and  croak  th'  event. 
My  friends  ne'er  think,  but  talk  by  role; 
Speak  what  they're  taught,  and  so  too  vote. 

When  rogues  like  these,  a  sparrow  crie.s, 
To  honours  and  employments  rise, 
I  court  no  favour,  ask  no  place, 
]^or  such  preferment  is  disgrace. 
Within  my  thatch' d  retreat  I  find 
(What  these  ne'er  feel  )  true  peace  of  miud. 


FABLE    III. 

THE    BABOON    AXI)  THE   POULTRY. 

To  a  levee-hunter. 


W, 


E  frequently  misplace  esteem, 
By  judging  men  by  what  they  seem. 
To  birth,  wealth,  pow'r,  we  should  allow 
Precedence,  and  our  lowest  bow. 
lu  that  is  due  distinction  shown  : 
E.steem  is  virtue's  right  aloue. 

With  partial  eye  we're  apt  to  see 
The  man  of  noble  pedigree ; 
We're  prepossest,  my  lord  inherits, 
In  some  degree  his  grandsire's  merits  ; 
For  those  we  find  upon  record ; 
But  find  him  nothing  but  my  lord. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  97 

When  we  with  superficial  view 
Gaze  on  the  rich,  we're  dazzled  too. 
We  kuow  that  wealth,  well  understood, 
Hath  frequent  pow'r  of  doing  good  : 
Then  fancy  that  the  thing  is  done, 
As  if  the  pow'r  and  will  were  one. 
Thus  oft  the  cheated  crowd  adore 
The  thriving  knaves  that  keep  'em  poor. 

The  cringing  train  of  pow'r  survey  : 
What  creatures  are  so  low  as  they  .' 
With  what  obsequiousness  they  beud  ' 
To  what  vile  actions  condescend  I 
Their  rise  is  on  their  meanness  built, 
And  flatt'ry  is  their  smallest  guilt. 
What  hommage,  rev'rence,  adoration, 
Jn  ev'ry  age,  in  ev'ry  nation, 
Have  sycophants  to  pow'r  address'd  I 
No  matter  who  the  pow'r  possess'd. 
Let  Ministers  be  what  they  will, 
You  find  their  levees  always  fill. 
Ks  n  those  who  have  perplex'd  a  state, 
Whose  actions  claim' d  contempt  and  hate, 
Ifad  wretches  to  applaud  their  schemes. 
Though  more  absurd  than  madmen's  dreams. 
^^  hen  barb'rous  Moloch  was  invok'd, 
The  bloOT.  of  infants  only  smok'd ! 
But  here,  unless  all  hist'ry  lies, 
Whole  realms  have  been  a  sacrifice. 
Look  through  all  courts;  'tis  power  we  find 
The  gen'i-al  idol  of  mankind ; 
There  worshipp'd  under  ev'ry  shape; 
Alike  the  lion,  fox,  and  ape. 
Are  foUow'd  by  time-serving  slaves, 
Rich  prostitutes  and  needy  knaves. 

Who  then  shall  glory  in  his  post  ? 
How  frail  his  pride!  how  vain  his  boast ! 

9 


yS  1  ABLES    BY    JOHN  GAY. 

The  loiVwers  ot  his  prosp'rous  hour 
Are  as  unstable  as  his  pow'r. 
Pow'r,  hy  the  br<ath  of  flatt'ry  nurst, 
The  more  it  swells,  is  nearer  burst. 
The  bubble  breaks,  the  gewgaw  euJs, 
And  in  a  dirty  tear  descends. 

Once  on  a  time  an  ancient  maid, 
By  wishes  and  by  time  decay'd, 
To  cure  the  pangs  of  restless  thought, 
In  birds  and  beasts  amusement  sought : 
Dogs,  parrots,  apes,  her  hours  eiuploy'd  ; 
With  these  alone  she  talk'd  and  toy'd. 
A  huge  baboon  her  fancy  took, 
,     Almost  a  man  in  size  and  look  ; 
He  finger'd  ev'ry  thing  he  found, 
And  mimick'd  all  the  servants  round. 
Then  too  his  parts  and  ready  wit 
Shew'd  him  for  ev'ry  bus'ness  lit : 
With  all  those  talents,  'twas  but  just 
That  pug  should  hold  a  place  of  trust : 
So  to  her  fav'rite  was  assign' d 
The  charge  of  all  her  feather'd  kind. 
'Twas  his  to  tend  em  eve  and  morn, 
And  portion  out  their  daily  corn. 

Behold  him  now,  with  haughtv  stride, 
Assume  a  ministerial  pride.         • 
The  morning  rose;  in  hope  of  picking. 
Swans,  turkeys,  peacocks,  ducks,  and  chicken, 
Fowls  of  all  ranks  surround  his  hut, 
To  worship  his  important  slrut^ 
The  minister  appears.  The  croA\d, 
Now  here,  now  there,  obsequious  bo^^  'd. 
This  prais'd  his  parls,  and  that  his  face, 
T'other  his  diguily  in  place  ; 
From  bill  to  bill  the  fiaft'ry  ran; 
He  hears  a;ul  b<-ars  il  like  a  man  ; 


PART  THE   SECOND.  99 

For,  wheu  we  flatter  self-conceit, 
We  but  his  sentiments  repeat. 

If  we're  too  scrupulously  just. 
What  profit's  in  a  place  of  trust  ? 
The  common  practice  of  the  great 
Is  to  secure  a  snug  retreat. 
So  pug  began  to  turn  his  brain , 
Like  other  folks  in  place  ,  on  gain. 
An  apple-woman's  stall  was  near. 
Well  stock'd  with  fruits  through  all  the  year  : 
Here  ev'ry  day  he  cramm'd  his  guts, 
Hence  were  his  hoards  of  pears  and  nuts  ; 
For  'twas  agreed  in  way  of  trade, 
ills  payments  should  in  corn  be  made. 

The  stock  of  grain  was  quickly  spent. 
And  no  account  which  way  it  went. 
Then  too  the  poultry's  starv'd  condition 
Caus'd  speculations  of  suspicion. 
The  facts  were  prov'd  beyond  dispute  ; 
Pug  must  refund  his  hoards  of  fruit : 
And,  though  then  minister  in  chief. 
Was  branded  as  a  pubUck  thief; 
Disgrac'd,  despis'd,  confin'd  to  chains, 
He  nothing  but  his  pride  retains. 

A  goose  pass'd  by  ;  he  knew  the  face, 
Seen  ev'ry  levee  while  in  place. 

What,  no  respect!  no  rev'rence  shown  ! 
How  saucy  are  these  creatures  grown  .' 
Not  two  days  since,  says  he,  you  bow'd 
The  lowest  of  ray  fawning  crowd. 

Proud  fool,  replies  the  goose,  'tis  true, 
Thy  corn  a  flutt'ring  levee  drew  ; 
For  that  I  joiii'd  the  hungry  train. 
And  sold  thee  flatt'ry  for  thy  grain. 
But  then,  as  now,  conceited  ape. 
We  saw  thee  in  thy  proper  shape. 


FABLES  r.T  JOHN  GAY. 


FABLE    IV. 

THE    ANT    IN    OFFICE. 

To  a  friend. 

X  o  u  tell  me  that  you  appreliend 
My  verse  may  toucliy  folks  otfeud. 
Ill  prudence  too  you  think  my  rhimes 
Should  never  squint  at  courtiers'  crimes  ; 
For  though  nor  this,  nor  that,  is  meant, 
Can  we  another's  thoughts  prx-veul? 

You  ask  me,  if  I  ever  knew 
Court-chaplains  thus  the  lawn  pursue. 
I  meddle  not  with  ffown  or  lawn  j 
Poets,  I  ^rant,  to  rise  must  fawn. 
They  know  great  ears  are  over-nice, 
And  never  shock  their  patron's  vice  ; 
Rut  1  this  hackney  path  despise ; 
'Tis  my  ambition  not  lo  rise. 
It  I  must  prostitute  the  muse, 
The  buse  conditions  I  refuse. 

I  neither  flatter  nor  defame, 
Yet  own  I  would  bring  guilt  to  shame. 
If  I  corruption's  hand  expose, 
I  make  corrupted  men  my  foes. 
What  then  i'  I  hate  the  paltry  tribe. 
Be  virtue  mine;  be  theirs  the  bribe. 
I  no  man's  property  invade  : 
Corruption's  yet  no  lawful  trade. 
Nor  would  it  mi^dily  ilJs  produce, 
Could  I  shame  bribry  out  of  use. 
I  know  'twould  cranio  mosi  poiiiicau- , 
Were  they  tied  down  to  tliese  conditio. js, 


PART  THE  SECOND.  loi 

'TvvouJd  stint  thfir  pow'r,  their  riches  bound, 
And  make  their  parts  ssem  less  profound. 
Were  they  denied  their  proper  tools. 
How  could  they  lead  their  knaves  and  fools:' 
Were  this  the  case,  let's  take  a  view 
What  dreadful  mischiefs  would  ensue. 
Though  it  might  agi^randize  the  state, 
Could  private  lux'ry  dine  on  plate? 
Kings  might  indeed  their  friends  rev.  ard, 
But  ministers  find  less  regard. 
Informers, sycophants,  and  spies. 
Would  not  augment  the  year's  supplies : 
Perhaps  too,  take  away  this  prop, 
An  annual  job  or  two  might  drop. 
Besides,  if  pensions  were  denied, 
Could  avarice  support  its  pride  ? 
It  might  ev'n  ministers  confound, 
And  yet  the  state  be  safe  and  sound. 

I  care  not  though  'tis  understood; 
I  only  mean  my  country's  good  : 
And,  let  who  will  uiy  freedom  blame, 
I  wish  all  courtiers  did  the  same. 
Nay,  though  some  folks  the  less  might  get, 
I  wish  the  nation  out  of  debt. 

I  put  no  private  man's  ambition 
With  publick  good  in  competition  : 
Piather  than  have  our  laws  defac'd, 
I'd  vote  a  minister  disgrflc'd. 

I  strike  at  vice,  be't  where  it  will, 
And  what  if  great  folks  take  it  ill ! 
I  hope  corruption,  brib'ry,  pension, 
One  may  with  detestation  mention  ; 
Think  you  the  law,  let  who  wi  1  t.ike  it. 
Can  scandalum  magnatiim  make  iti^ 
I  vent  no  slander,  owe  no  grudge, 
Nw  of  another's  conscience  judge : 

9" 


FAT,  LES    BY   JOHN    GAY. 
At  him  or  him  I  take  uo  aim, 
Yet  dare  against  all  >  ice  declaim. 
Shall  I  not  censure  breach  of  trust, 
Because  knaves  know  themselves  unjust? 
That  steward,  whose  account  is  clear, 
Demands  his  honour  may  appear: 
H's  actions  never  shun  the  light ; 
He  is,  and  would  be  prov'd  upright. 

Ttut  then  you  think  my  fable  bears 
Allusioa  too  to  state-affairs. 
I  grant  it  does  :  and  who's  so  great, 
TJ»3t  has  the  privilege  to  cheat  ? 
If  then  in.  any  future  reign 
(  For  ministers  may  thirst  for  gain  ) 
Corrupted  hands  defraud  the  ualion, 
I  bar  uo  reader's  application. 

An  ant  there  was,  whose  forward  jiraie 
Controul'd  all  matters  iu  debate. 
Whether  he  knew  the  thing  or  no, 
His  tongue  eternally  would  go  : 
For  he  had  impudence  at  will, 
And  boasted  universal  skill. 
Ambition  was  his  point  in  view  ; 
Thus  by  degrees  to  pow'r  he  grew. 
I'ehold  him  now  his  drift  attain; 
He's  made  chief  treas'rer  of  the  grain. 

But  as  their  ancient  laws  are  jusi , 
And  punish  breach  of  publick  trust, 
'Tis  order'd,  lest  v/rong  a2ij)licatiou 
Should  starve  that  wise  industrious  nation, 
That  all  accounts  be  stated  clear. 
Their  stock,  and  what  defray'd  the  year; 
'I'hat  auditors  should  thcs(;  inspect. 
And  publick  rapine  thus  be  check 'd. 
For  this  the  solemn  day  was  set, 
The  audilovs  in  council  met ; 


PART  THE  SECOND.  loi 

The  grau'ry-keeper  must  explain, 
And  balance  his  account  of  grain. 
He  brought,  since  he  could  not  rffus.'  'tiu^ 
Some  scraps  of  paper  to  amuse  'em. 

An  honest  pismire,  warm  with  ztal. 
In  justice  to  the  pubiick  weal, 
Thus  spoke  :  The  nation's  hoard  is  low  ; 
From  whence  does  this  profusion  flow.^ 
I  know  our  annual  fund's  amount. 
Why  such  expence,  and  where's  th'  account  .•' 

With  wonted  arrogance  and  pride, 
The  ant  in  ofilce  thus  rephed  : 

Consider,  Sirs,  were  secrets  told, 
How  could  the  best-schem'd  projects  hold  : 
Should  we  state-mysteries  disclose, 
'Twould  lay  us  opert-to  our  foes. 
My  duty  and  my  well-known  zeal 
Rid  me  our  present  schemes  co.'j<  eal  : 
But,  on  my  honour,  all  th'  expeuce. 
Though  vast,  was  for  the  swarm's  defer^re. 

They  pass'd  th'  account  as  fair  and  just. 
And  voted  him  implicit  trust. 

Next  year  again  the  gran'ry  draiu'd, 
He  thus  his  innocence  maiutain'd  : 

Think  ho>v  our  present  matters  stand. 
What  dangers  threat  from  ev'ry  hand  ; 
WTiat  hosts  of  turkeys  stroll  for  food , 
No  farmer's  wife  but  hath  her  brood. 
Consider,  when  invasion's  near, 
Intelligence  must  cost  us  dear  ; 
And, in  this  ticklish  situation, 
A  secret  told  betrays  the  nation. 
But,  on  my  honour,  all  th'  expeuce, 
Th.  jugh  vast ,  was  for  the  swarm's  defence. 

Again,  without  examination. 
They  thank'd  his  sage  admiuistratien. 


I04  lARLES    BY   JOHN   GAY. 

The  year  revolves ;  the  treasure  spent 
Again  in  secret  service  went. 
His  honour  too  again  was  pledg'd 
To  satisfy  the  charge  alledg'd. 

When  thus,  with  panick  shame  possess'd. 
An  auditor  his  friends  address'd  : 

What  are  we  ?  ministerial  tools  : 
W^e  little  knaves  are  greater  fools. 
At  last  this  secret  is  explor'd; 
'Tis  our  corruption  thins  the  hoard  : 
!''or  ev'ry  grain  we  touch'd,  at  least 
A  thousarid  his  owulieaps  increas'd. 
Then,  for  his  kin,  and  fav'rite  spies, 
A  hundred  hardly  could  suffice. 
Thus,  for  a  paltry  sneaking  bribe, 
We  cheat  ourselves,  and  all  the  tribe  ; 
I'or  all  the  magazine  contains 
Grows  from  our  annual  toil  anil  pains. 

They  vote  th'  account  shall  be  inspected  : 
The  cunning  pKmd'rer  is  detected  ; 
The  fraud  is  sentenc'd  ;  and  his  hoard, 
As  due,  to  publick  use  restor'd. 


FABLE    V. 


THE    BEAR    IN    A     BOAT. 


To  a  coxcomb. 


JL  H  AT  man  must  daily  wiser  grow, 
Whose  search  is  bent  himself  to  know 
Impartially  he  weighs  his  scope, 
And  on  firm  reason  founds  his  hope  ; 


PART  THE  SECOND. 
He  tries  his  strength  before  the  race, 
And  never  seeks  his  own  dis{,'race  ; 
He  knows  the  compass,  sail,  and  oar, 
Or  never  launches  from  the  shore  ; 
Before  he  builds,  compute.s  the  cost, 
And  in  no  proud  pursuit  is  lost: 
Me  learns  the  bounds  of  human  sense, 
And  safely  walks  within  the  fence  : 
Thus  cons<;ious  of  his  own  defect, 
Are  pride  and  seif-importance  check'd. 

If  then,  self-knowledge  to  pursue. 
Direct  our  life  in  ev'ry  view, 
Of  all  the  fools  tliat  pride  can  boast 
A  coxcomb  claims  distinction  most. 

Coxcombs  are  of  all  ranks  and  Idnd ; 
They  're  not  to  sex  or  age  conlin'd. 
Or  rich,  or  poor,  or  great,  or  small; 
And  vanity  besots  'em  ail. 
Y>y  ignorance  is  pride  iucreas'd  : 
Those  most  assume  who  know  the  least; 
Their  own  false  balance  gives  'em  weight. 
But  ev'ry  other  finds  'em  lif;ht. 

Not  that  all  coxcombs'  follies  strike, 
And  draw  our  ridicule  alike  ; 
To  diff'rent  merits  each  pretends  : 
This  in  love-vanity  transcends; 
That,  smitten  Avith  his  face  aq||[  shape, 
By  dress  distinguishes  the  ape  ; 
T'other  with  learning  crams  his  shelf, 
Knows  books  and  all  things  but  himself. 

All  these  are  fools  of  low  condition, 
Compar'd  with  coxcombs  of  ambition. 
For  those,  puff  d  up  with  flatt'ry,  dare 
Assume  a  nation's  various  care. 
They  ne'er  the  grossest  praise  mistrust, 
Their  sycophants  seem  hardly  just : 


to6  FABLES   BY  JOHN   GAY. 

For  these  in  part  alone  attest 
The  flatt'ry  their  own  thoughts  suggest. 
In  this  wide  sphere  a  coxcomb's  shown 
In  other  realms  besides  his  own  : 
The  self-deem'd  Machiavel  at  large 
By  turns  controuls  in  ev'ry  charge. 
Does  commerce  suffer  in  her  rights  ?        • 
'Tis  he  directs  the  naval  flights. 
What  sailor  dares  dispute  his  skill  ? 
He'll  be  an  adm'ral  when  he  will. 

Now,  meddling  in  the  soldier's  tx'ade, 
Troops  must  be  liir'd  and  levies  made. 
He  gives  ambassadors  their  cue, 
His  cobbled  treaties  to  renew  ; 
And  annual  taxes  must  suffice 
The  current  blunders  to  disguise.   ■ 
When  his  crude  schemes  in  air  are  lost, 
And  millions  scarce  defray  the  cost, 
His  arrogance,  nought  undismay'd, 
Trusting  in  self-suflicieut  aid. 
On  other  rocks  misguides  the  realm, 
And  thinks  a  pilot  at  the  helm. 
He  ne'er  suspects  his  want  of  skill. 
But  blunders  on  from  ill  to  ill  ; 
And  when  he  fails  of  all  intent, 
Blames  only  unforeseen  event. 
Lest  you  ui^take  the  application, 
The  fable  calls  me  to  relation. 

A  bear,  of  shag  and  manners  rough, 
At  climbing  trees  expert  enough  ; 
For  dext'rously  and  safe  from  harm 
Year  after  year  he  robb'd  the  swarm. 
Thus  thriving  on  industrious  toil. 
He  gloried  in  his  pilfer'd  spoil. 

This  trick  so  swell'd  him  with  conceit. 
He  thought  no  enterprize  too  great. 


PART  THE  SECOND. 

Alike  in  sciences  and  arts, 
He  boasterl  universal  parts  ; 
Pragnialick,  busy,  bustling,  bold, 
His  arrogance  was  uncontroul'd  : 
And  thus  be  made  his  party  good, 
And  grew  dictator  of  the  wood. 

The  beasts  with  admiration  stare. 
And  think  hiiu  a  prodigious  bear. 
Were  any  common  booty  got, 
'Twas  his  each  portion  to  allot : 
For  why,  he  found  there  might  be  picking 
Ev'n  in  the  carving  of  a  chicken, 
intruding  thus,  he  by  degrees 
Ciaim'd  too  the  butcher's  larger  fees  : 
And  now  his  over-weening  pride 
In  ev'ry  province  will  preside. 
No  task  too  difficult  was  found  : 
His  blund'ring  nose  misleads  the  hound  : 
In  stratagem  and  subtle  arts. 
He  over-rules  the  fox's  parts. 

It  chanc'd,  as  on  a  certain  day 
Along  the  bank  he  took  his  way, 
A  boat, with  rudder,  sail,  and  oar, 
At  anchor  floated  near  the  shore ; 
He  stopt,  and,  turning  to  his  train, 
Thus  pertly  vents  his  vaunting  strain  : 

What  blund'ring  puppies  are  mankind, 
In  ev'ry  science  always  blind  I 
I  mock  the  pedantry  of  schools. 
What  are  their  compasses  and  rules  ? 
From  me  that  helm  shall  conduct  learn, 
And  man  his  ignorance  discern. 

So  saying,  with  audacious  pride 
He  gains  the  boat  and  climbs  the  side. 
The  beasts  astonish'd  line  the  strand; 
The  anchor's  weigh'd,he  drives  from  iav.d 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

The  slack  sail  shifts  from  side  to  side ; 

The  hoat  untriium'd  admits  the  tide. 

Borne  dowu,  adrift,  at  random  tost, 

His  oar  breaks  short,  the  rudder's  lost. 

The  hear,  presuming  in  his  skill, 

Is  here  and  there  oflicious  still ; 

Till  strikiuc;  on  the  dang'rous  sands 

A-ground  the  shatter'd  vessel  stands. 

To  see  the  bungler  thus  distrest,  ^ 

The  very  fishes  sneer  and  jest. 

Ev'n  gudgeons  join  in  ridicule, 

To  mortify  the  meddling  fool. 

The  clam'rous  watermen  appear  ; 

Threats,  curses,  oaths,  insult  his  ear  : 

Seiz'  d,  thresh'd  and  chain'd,  he's  dragg'd  to  land : 

Derision  shouts  alonerthe  strand. 


FABLE  VI. 

THE    'squire  and   HIS   CUR. 

To  a  country-gentleman. 

J.  H  E  man  of  pure  and  simple  heart 
Tlirough  life  disdains  a  double  part. 
He  never  needs  the  screen  of  lies 
Jlis  inward  bosom  to  disguise. 
In  vain  malicious  tongues  assail; 
Let  envy  snarl,  let  slander  rail, 
From  virtue's  shield,  secure  from  v/ound, 
Their  blunted  venom'd  shafts  rebound. 
So  shines  his  llghtbeforc  mankind, 
His  actions  prove  his  honest  mind. 
If  in  his  country's  cause  he  rise, 
Debating  senates  to  advis*'. 


P  ART  THE  SECOIND.  109 

Unbrib'd,  unaw'd,  he  dares  impart 
The  honest  dictates  of  his  heart. 
No  ministerial  frown  he  fears, 
But  in  his  virtue  perseveres.  ' 

But  would  you  play  the  politician, 
Whose  heart's  averse  to  intuition, 
Your  lips  at  all  times,  nay,  your  reason, 
Must  be  controul'd  by  place  and  season. 
What  statesman  could  his  pow'r  support. 
Were  lying  tongues  forbid  the  court? 
Did  princely  ears  to  truth  attend, 
What  Minister  could  gain  his  end  ? 
How  could  he  raise  his  tooJs  to  place. 
And  how  his  honest  foes  disgrace  ? 

That  politician  tops  his  part, 
Who  readily  can  lie  with  art, 
The  man's  proficient  in  his  trade ; 
His  pow'r  is  strong,  his  fortune's  made. 
By  that  the  iut'rest  of  the  throne 
[s  made  subservient  to  his  own : 
By  I  hat  have  kings  of  old,  deluded. 
All  their  own  friends  for  his  excluded. 
By  that,  his  selfish  schemes  pursuing, 
He  thrives  upon  the  publick  ruin. 

Autiochus  (i),  with  hardy  pace, 
Provok'd  the  dangers  of  the  chace  ; 
And,  lost  from  all  his  menial  train, 
Travers'd  the  wood  and  joathless  plain  : 
A  cottage  lodg'd  the  royal  guest: 
The  Parthian  clowu  brought  forth  his  best. 
The  King  unknown  his  feast  eujoy'd. 
And  various  chat  the  hours  employ'd. 
Trom  wine  what  sudden  friendship  springs  I 
Frankly  they  talk'd  of  courts  and  kings. 


FAP.LES  IVY  JOHN  GAY.- 

We  countiy-folks,  ibe  clown  replies, 
Could  ope  our  gracious  monax-ch's  eyes. 
Th^  kin2[,as  all  our  neighbours  say, 
Might  ht  (  God  bless  him  I) have  his  wav. 
Is  sound  at  heart,  and  means  our  good, 
And  he  v.ould  do  it,  if  he  could . 

If  truth  in  courts  were  not  forbid, 
Nor  kings  nor  subjects  would  be  rid. 
Were  he  in  pow'r,  we  need  not  doubt  him 
Rut  that  tra;isfierr'd  to  those  about  biiii, 
On  them  he  throws  the  regal  cares  : 
And  what  mind  they  .^  Their  own  affairs. 

If  such  rapacious  hands  he  trust, 
The  best  of  men  may  seem  unjust. 
From  kings  to  coblers  'tis  the  same  : 
Bad  servants  wound  their  masters'  fame. 
In  this  our  neighbours  all  agree  ; 
Would  the  king  knew  as  much  as  we. 
Here  he  stopt  short.  Rejjose  they  sought: 
The  peasant  slept;  the  mouaich  tltrsuglit. 

The  courtiers  learn'd,  at  early  da^^n, 
Where  their  lost  sov'reign  was  with(h•a\^n. 
The  guards'  approach  our  host  alarms, 
With  gaudy  coats  the  cottage  swarms. 
The  crown  and  purple  robes  they  bring. 
And  prostrate  fall  before  the  king, 
'i'he  clown  was  cali'd,  the  royal  guest 
By  due  reward  his  thanks  exprest. 
The  king  then  turning  to  the  crowd, 
Who  fawningly  before  him  bow'd. 
Thus  spoke:  Since,  bent  on  private  gain, 
Your  counsels  llrsl  misled  my  reign., 
Taught  and  inform'd  by  you  alone, 
No  truth  the  royal  car  halh  knoAvn, 
'Till  here  conversing.   Htnce,  ye  crew, 
For  now  I  know  myself  and  you. 


PART  THE  St  COM3. 

Wlieae'er  the  royal  ear'.s  engrost, 
State-lies  but  little  geulus  cost : 
The  fav'rlte  then  securely  robs 
And  gleans  a  nation  by  his  jobs. 
l'"rauker  and  bolder  giowu  in  ill. 
He  daily  poisons  dares  instill ; 
And,  as  his  present  views  suggest, 
Inllaines  or  sooths  the  royal  breast. 
Thus  wicked  ministers  oppress, 
AVhen  oft  the  monarch  means  redress. 

Would  kings  their  private  subjects  hear, 
A  minister  luust  talk  with  fear: 
If  honesty  oppose!  his  views. 
He  dare  not  innocence  accuse  :  • 

'Twould  keep  him  in  such  narrow  bound, 
He  could  not  right  and  wrong  confound, 
Happy  were  kings,  could  they  disclose 
Their  real  friends  and  real  foes  .' 
Were  both  themselves  and  subjects  kuown, 
A  monarch's  will  might  be  his  own. 
Had  he  the  use  of  ears  and  eyes, 
Knaves  v,ould  no  more  be  counted  wise. 
13  ut  then  a  minister  might  lose 
(  Hard  case  .'  )  his  own  ambitious  views. 
When  such  as  these  have  vex'd  a  state, 
Pursu'd  by  universal  hate, 
Their  false  support  at  once  hath  fail'd, 
And  persevering  truth  prevail'd. 
Expos' d  their  train  of  fi-aud  is  seen  ; 
Truth  wiil  at  last  remove  the  screen. 

A  country  'Squire,  by  whim  directed. 
The  true,  stauch  dogs  of  chase  neglected. 
Ueneath  Ixis  board  no  hound  was  fed ; 
His  hand  ne'er  stroak'd  the  spaniel's  head. 
A  snappish  cur,  alorie  carest, 
Bv  lies  had  banish'd  all  the  rest ; 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 

Yap  had  his  ear ;  and  defamation 
Gave  him  full  scope  of  conversation. 
His  sycophants  must  he  prefeiT  d, 
Room  must  be  made  for  all  his  herd  : 
Wherefore,  to  bring  his  schemes  about. 
Old  faithful  servants  all  must  out. 

The  cur  on  ev'ry  creature  flew, 
(As  other  great  men's  ])uppies  do,) 
Unless  due  court  to  him  were  shown. 
And  both  their  face  and  business  known. 
No  honest  tongue  an  audience  found  : 
He  worried  all  the  tenants  round  ; 
For  why,  he  liv'd  in  constant  fear 
Lest  truth  by  chance  should  interfere. 
If  any  stranger  dar'd  intrude, 
The  noisy  cur  his  heels  pursu'd. 
Now  fierce  with  rage  ,now  struck  with  dread; 
At  once  he  snarled,  b  t,  ar.d  fled. 
Aloof  he  bays,  with  bristling  hair, 
And  thus  in  secret  growls  his  fear  : 
Who  knows  but  truth,  in  this  disguise, 
May  frustrate  my  best  guarded  lies? 
Should  she,  thus  mask'd,  admittance  find. 
That  very  iiour  m\  ruin's  sign'd. 

Now  in  his  howl's  continu'd  sound, 
Their  words  Avere  lost,  the  voice  was  drown'd 
Ever  in  awe  of  honest  tongues. 
Thus  ev'ry  day  he  strain'd  his  lungs. 

It  happen'd,  in  ill-oraen'd  hour. 
That  Yap,  unmindful  of  his  pow'r. 
Forsook  his  post,  to  love  inclin'd  ; 
A  fav'rite  bitch  was  in  the  wind  : 
By  her  seduc'd,  in  am'rous  play 
They  frisk'd  the  joyous  hours  away. 
Thus  by  untimely  love  pursuing, 
Like  Antony,  he  sought  his  ruin. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  ii3 

For  now  the  'Squire,  unvex'd  witb  noise, 
Au  honest  neighbour's  chat  eujovs. 

Re  free,  says  he.  your  mind  \nipart ; 
I  love  a  friendJy  open  heart. 
Methinks  my  tenants  sliun  my  gate  ; 
VVhy  such  a  stranger  n^ro\vn  of  Jate? 
Pray  tell  me  what  offJice  ihey  find  : 
'Tis  ])iain  thr y're  not  so  well  iucLia'd. 

Turn  off  yoar  cur,  the  faimer  cries, 
Who  feedsyonr  ear  with  daily  lies  ; 
His  snarling  insolence  offends  : 
'Tis  he  that  keeps  you  from  your  friends. 
Were  but  that  sauoY  pnppy  checkt, 
You'd  find  again  the  same  respect. 
Hear  only  him,  he'il  swear  it  too 
That  all  our  haired  is  to  you  ; 
But  learn  from  us  your  tnie  estate  : 
'Tis  that  cur.s'd  cu)'  alone  we  hate. 

The  'Squire  heard  truth.  Now  Yap  rush"diaj 
The  wide  hail  echoes  w^th  his  din  : 
Yet  truth  prevaii'd  ;  and,  with  disgrace, 
The  dog  was  cudgell'd  out  of  place. 


FABLE  VII. 

■JHK    t;OCNTnYMA.N    AND    JX;X'lTtK. 

To  MjscL'^. 

XL  AVE  you  a  friend  (  look  round  aud  tipx  } 

So  fond,  so  preposscss'd  as  I  .^ 

Your  faults,  so  obvious  to  mankind, 

IMy  partial  eyes  could  never  Und. 

\\  hen,  by  the  breath  of  i'ortanc  blown, 

Yo«r  ail y  castles  ^Tcrc  o'eilhrown, 

10, 


ii4  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 

Have  I  beeu  over  pipne  to  blame, 
Or  mortified  your  hours  with,  shame  ? 
Was  I  e'er  knowu  to  damp  your  spirit, 
Or  twit  you  with  the  want  of  merit? 
'Tis  not  so  strange  that  Fortune's  frown 
Still  perseveres  to  keep  you  down. 
Look  round,  and  4^  what  others  do. 
Would  you  be  rich  aud  honest  too.** 
Have  you,  like  those  she  rais'd  to  place. 
Been  opportunely  mean  aud  base? 
Have  you,  as  times' requir'd,  resign  d 
Truth,  honour,  virtue,  peace  of  mind? 
If  these  are  scruples,  give  her  o'er  ; 
Write,  practise  morals,  and  be  poor. 

The  gifts  of  fortune  truly  rate  ; 
Then  tell  me  what  would  mend  your  stale. 
If  happiness  on  wealth  were  built, 
Rich  rOi:;ues  might  eoiufurt  find  in  guilt : 
As  grows  the  miser's  hoarded  store, 
His  fears,  his  wants,  increase  the  more. 

Think,  (jay,  (  what  ne'er  may  be  the  case, ) 
Should  fortune  take  you  into  grace, 
Would  that  your  happiness  augment? 
AVIiat  can  she  give  beyond  content? 

Suppose  yourself  a  wealthy  heir, 
With  a  vast  annual  income  clear  ! 
In  all  the  affluence  you  possess, 
You  might  not  feel  one  care  the  less. 
Might  you  not  then,  like  others,  find 
With  change  of  fortune,  change  of  mind? 
Perhaps  profuse  beyond  all  rule. 
You  might  start  out  a  glaring  fool ; 
Your  luxury  might  break  all  bounds  : 
Plate,  table,  horses,  slev\ards,  hounds. 
Might  swell  your  debts  :  then  lust  of  play 
No  regal  income  can  defray. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  u 

Suuk  is  all  credit,  writs  assail, 
Aud  doom  -vour  future  life  to  jail. 

Or,  were  you  dignified  with  pow'r, 
Would  that  avert  one  pensive  hour? 
You  might  give  avarice  its  swing  , 
Defraud  a  nation,  blmd  a  king  : 
Then,  from  tlie  hirelings  in  your  cause, 
Though  daily  fed  with  false  applause, 
Gould  it  a  real  joy  impart  ? 
Great  giu^t  knew  never  joy  at  heart. 

Is  happiness  your  point  in  view.-* 
(  I  mean  th'  intrinsick  and  the  true  ) 
She  nor  in  camps  or  courts  resides, 
Nor  in  the  humble  cottage  hides; 
Yet  found  alike  in  ev'ry  sphere ; 
"Who  finds  content,  Avill  find  her  there. 

O'erspent  with  toil,  beneath  tlfle  shade 
A  peasant  rested  on  his  spade. 

Good  gods  .'  he  cries,  'tis  hard  to  bear 
This  load  of  life  from  year  to  year. 
Soon  as  the  morning  streaks  the  skies, 
Industrious  labour  bids  me  rise; 
With  sweat  I  earn  my  homely  fare, 
And  ev'ry  day  renews  my  care. 

Jove  heard  the  discontented  strain, 
And  thus  rebuk'd  the  murm'ring  swain  : 

Speak  out  your  wants  then,  honest  friend ; 
Unjust  complaints  the  gods  offend. 
If  you  repine  at  partial  fate, 
Instruct  me  wha^t  could  mend  your  state. 
Mankind  in  ev'ry  station  see. 
What  wish  you.^  Tell  me  what  you'd  be. 

So  said  :  upborne  upon  a  cloud, 
The  clown  survey'd  the  anxious  crowd. 

.Yon  face  of  care,  savs  Jove,  behold, 
His  bulky  bags  are  fill'd  with  gold. 


[- ABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 
See  with  what  joy  he  counts  it  o'er  .' 
That  sum  to-day  hath  sweli'd  his  store. 
Were  I  that  man,  the  peasant  cried, 
What  hlesslug  couki  I  ask  beside.^ 

Hold,  says  the  god  ;  iirst  learn  to  know 
True  liappincss  froiii  outward  show. 

This  bptick  glass  of  intuition 

Here,  take  it,  view  his  line  condition. 

He  look'd,  and  saw  the  miser's  breast, 
A  troubled  ocean,  ne'er  at  rest  M| 
Want  ever  stares  him  in  the  face, 
And  fear  anticipates  disgrace  : 
^Vith  conscious  guilt  h;*  saw  him  start; 
Extortion  gnavv  s  his  throbbing  heart ; 
And  never,  or  in  thought  or.  dream, 
His  breast  admits  one  hajipy  gleam. 

May  .love,  he  cries,  reject  my  pray'r, 
And  guard  my  life  from  guilt  and  care! 
My  soul  abhors  that  wretch's  fate  : 
()  keep  me  in  my  humble  state  .' 
But  see,  amidst  a  gaudy  ci'owd, 
Yon  minister  so  gay  and  proud. 
On  him  what  happiness  attends. 
Who  thus  rewards  his  grateful  friends  .' 

Kirst  lake  the  glass,the  (iod  replies; 
Man  views  the  world  with  partial  eyes. 

Good  gods  !  exclaims  ihe  startled  wiglil, 
Defend  mc  from  ihls  hideous  sight ! 
Corruption,  with  corrosive  smart, 
Lies  cank'ring  on  his  guilty  heart: 
I  see  him,  with  polluted  hand. 
Spread  the  contagion  o'er  the  land. 
Now  a v' rice  with  insatiate  jaws, 
Now  raj)iue  with  her  harpy  claws. 
If  is  bosom  tears.  His  conscious  breast 
Groans,  v.ilJi  a  load  of  crimes  opprest. 


PARTTHESECOND.  117 

See  hiiii,  mad  and  drunk  with  power, 
Stand  tott'riug  on  ambition's  tower. 
Soraetime.s,ln  speeches  vain  and  proud, 
}[is  boasts  insult  the  nether  crowd; 
Now,  seiz'd  vith  giddiness  and  fear, 
He  trembles  lest  his  fall  is  near. 

Was  ever  wretch  like  this,  he  cries, 
Such  misery  in  such  disguise  J 
The  change,  O  Jove,  I  disavow ; 
Still  be  my  lot  the  spade  and  plough. 

He  next,  confirm'd  by  speculation, 
Rejects  the  lawyei's  occupation  ; 
For  he  the  statesman  seera'd  in  part. 
And  bore  similitude  of  heart. 
Nor  did  the  soldier's  trade  inflame 
His  hopes  with  thirst  of  spoil  and  fame: 
The  miseries  of  war  he  mourn' d  ; 
Whole  nations  into  deserts  turn'd. 

By  these  have  laws  nnd  rights  been  brav'd  j 
By  these  was  free-born  man  enslaved, 
When  battles  and  invasion  cease, 
Whv  swarm  thev  in  the  lauds  of  peace? 
Such  change,  says  he,  may  I  decline  ; 
The  scythe  and  civil  arms  be  mine ; 

Thus  weighing  life  in  each  condition , 
The  clown  withdrew  his  rash  petition. 

When  thus  the  God  :  «  How  mortals  err  ! 
If  you  true  ha})piness  prefer, 
'Tis  to  no  rank  of  life  confin'd, 
But  dwells  in  ev'ry  honest  mind. 
Be  justice  then  your  sole  pursuit: 
Plant  virtue,  and  content's  the  fruit.  » 

vSo  Jove,  to  gratify  the  clown, 
Where  first  he  found  him,  set  him  down. 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 
FABLE  VIII. 

THE    MAN,    THE    CA.T,    THE    DOG,    AND    THE    FI,Y, 

To  my  native  country. 

Jrl-AiL,  happy  laud!  whose  fertile  grounds 

The  liquid  feuce  of  Neptune  houud.'s ; 

By  houuteous  nature  set  apart. 

The  seat  of  industry  and  art ! 

O  Britain!  chosen  port  of  trade, 

May  lux'ry  ne'er  thy  sons  invade  ; 

May  never  minister,  intent 

His  private  treasures  to  augment. 

Corrupt  thy  state.  If  jealous  foes 

Thy  rights  of  commerce  dare  oppose, 

Shall  not  thy  fleets  their  rapine  awe*"* 

Who  is't  prescribes  the  Oceau  law.-* 

Whenever  neighh'ring  slates  contend^ 
'Tis  thine  to  he  the  gen'ral  Iriend. 
What  is't  who  rules  in  other  lands  ? 
On  trade  alone  thy  glory  stands. 
That  beaelit  is  unconlin'd, 
Diffusing  good  among  mankind  : 
That  lirst  gave  lustre  to  thy  reigns. 
And  scatter'd  pleuly  o'er  thy  plains  : 
'Tis  that  alone  thy  wealth  supplies. 
And  draws  all  Europe's  envious  eyes. 
Be  commerce   then  thy  sole  design  ; 
Keep  that,  and  all  the  world  is  thme. 

When  naval  traflick  ploughs  the  n.ain 
Who  shares  not  iu  the  merchant's  f;ain? 


FART  THE  SECOND. 
'Tis  that  supports  the  regal  state, 
And  makes  the  farmer's  heart  clale  : 
The  nam'rous  flocks,  that  clothe  the  land, 
Can  scarce  supply  the  loom's  demand  ; 
Prolifick  culture  g.'ads  '.he  fields. 
A:id  the  bare  heath  a  harvest  yields. 

Nature  expects  mankind  should  share 
The  duties  of  the  puhiick  care. 
Who's  born  for  sloth  (i)  ?  To  some  we  find 
The  plough-share's  annual  toil  assign'd. 
Some  at  the  sounding  anvil  glow  ; 
Some  the  swift -'gliding  shuttle  throw^ : 
Some,  studious  of  the  wind  and  tide, 
I'rom  pole  to  pole  our  commerce  guide*: 
Some,  laoght  by  industry,  impart 
With  hands  and  feet  the  w  orks  of  art : 
While  j-onie,  of  genius  more  relin'd. 
With  head  and  tongue  assist  mankind  : 
Each,  aiming  at  one  common  end. 
Proves  to  the  whole  a  needful  friend. 
Thus,  born  each  other's  useful  aid, 
By  turns  are  obligations  paid. 

The  monarch,  when  his  table's  spread, 
Is  to  the  clown  oblig'd  for  bread  ; 
And,  when  in  all  his  glory  drest, 
Owes  to  the  loom  his  royal  vest. 
Do  not  the  mason's  toil  and  care 
Protect  him  from  th'  inclement  air! 
Does  not  the  cutler's  art  supply 
The  ornament  that  guards  his  thigh  ' 
All  these, in  duty  to  the  throne, 
Tiieir  common  obligations  own. 
'Tis  he  ( his  own  or  people's  cause  ) 
Protects  their  properties  and  laws. 

(i)  Barrow. 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

Thus  they  their  honest  toil  employ, 
And  with  content  their  fruits  enjov. 
In  ev"ry  rank,  or  great  or  small, 
'Tis  industry  supports  us  all. 

The  animals,  by  want  oppress'd, 
To  man  their  services  addiess'd. 
"While  each  pursuM  their  selfish  good, 
They  hunger'd  (or  precarious  food. 
Their  hours  with  anxious  cares  were  vext ; 
One  day  they  fed,  and  starv'd  the  next. 
They  saw  that  plenty,  sure  and  rife, 
Was  found  alone  in  social  hfe  ; 
That  mutual  industry  profess'd 
Th?  various  wants  of  man  redress'd. 

The  cat,  half-famish'd,  lean  and  weak. 
Demands  the  privilege  to  speak. 

Well,  puss,  says  man,  and  what  can  you 
To  benefit  the  pnblick  do  .'* 
The  cat  replies  :  These  teeth,  these  claws. 
With  vigilance  shall  serve  the  cause. 
The  mouse,  deslroy'd  by  my  pursuit. 
No  longer  shall  your  feasts  pollute. 
Nor  rats,  from  nightly  ambuscade. 
With  wasteful  teeth  your  stores  invade. 

I  grant,  says  man,  to  gen'ral  use 
Your  parts  and  talents  may  conduce  ; 
For  rats  and  mice  purloin  our  grain, 
And  threshers  whirl  the  Hail  in  vain  : 
Thus  shall  the  cat  a  foe  to  spoil. 
Protect  the  farmer's  honest  toil. 

Then,  turning  to  the  dog,  he  cri*  d. 
Well,  sir;  be  next  your  merits  tried. 

Sir,  says  the  dog,  by  self-applause 
We  seem  to  own  a  friendless  c;«use. 
Ask  those  who  know  me,  if  distrust 
E'er  found  mr  treach'rons  or  unjust?. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  , 

Did  I  e'er  faith  or  fi'iendship  break  i' 
Ask  all  those  creatures ;  let  them  speak. 
My  vigilance  and  trusty  zeal 
Perhaps  might  serve  the  publick  weal. 
Might  not  your  flocks  in  safety  feed, 
Were  I  to  guard  the  fleecy  breed? 
Did  I  the  nightly  watches  keep. 
Could  thieves  invade  you  while  vou  sleep  . 

The  man  replies  :  'Tis  just  and  right : 
Rewards  such  service  should  i-equite. 
So  rare,  in  property,  we  find 
Trust  uncorrupt  among  mankind, 
That,  taken  in  a  publick  view, 
The  iirst  distinction  is  your  due. 
Such  merits  all  reward  transcend  : 
Be  then  my  comrade  and  my  friend. 

Addressing  now  the  fly :  From  you 
What  publick  service  can  accrue  ? 
From  me  !  the  flutt'ring  insect  said, 
I  thought  you  knew  me  belter  bred  ; 
Sir,  I'm  a  gentleman.  Is't  fit 
That  I  to  industry  submit  ? 
Let  mean  mechanicks,  to  be  fed, 
By  bus'ness  earn  ignoble  bread. 
Lost  in  excess  of  daily  joys, 
No  thought,  no  care  my  life  annoyi^. 
At  noon  ,  the  lady's  matin  hour, 
I  sip  the  tea's  delicious  flow'r. 
On  cates  luxuriously  I  dine, 
And  drink  the  fragrance  of  ihe  vine. 
Studious  of  elegance  and  ease, 
Myself  alone  I  seek  to  please. 

The  man  his  pert  conceit  derides, 
And  thus  the  u.-eless  coxcomb  chides  : 

Hence,  from  that  peach,  that  downiy  s^^at : 
No  idle  fool  dcsenes  to  eat. 


FABLES  BY  JOHj^T  GAY. 
Could  you  bave  sapp'd  the  blushing  r'nd, 
And  OQ  that  pulp  ambrosial  din'd, 
Had  not  some  hand  with  skill  and  toil. 
To  raise  the  tree,  prepared  the  soili* 
Consider,  sot,  what  would  ensue. 
Were  all  such  w  orthlcss  things  as  you. 
You'd  soon  be  forc'd  ,  by  hunger  stung  , 
To  make  your  dirty  meals  on  dung: 
On  which  such  despicable  need, 
Unpitied,  is  reduc'd  to  feed. 
Resides,  vain  selfish  insect,  learn, 
(  If  you  can  right  and  wrong  discern  ) 
That  he  who  with  industrious  zeal 
Coatributes  to  the  publick  weal. 
By  adcUng  to  the  common  good, 
His  own  hath  rightly  understood. 
So  saying,  with  a  sudden  blow, 
He  laid  the  noxious  vagrant  low  : 
Crush'd  in  his  luxury  and  pride, 
The  spunger  on  the  publick  died. 


FABLE    IX. 

THF.    JACKALIi,    LEOrAR©,    AND    OTHER    EEASTi. 

To  a  modern  Polilician. 

X  GRANT  corruption  sways  mankind; 
That  int'rest  too  perverts  ihc  mind; 
That  bribes  have  blinded  cornmoa  sense, 
Foil'd  reason,  truth,  and  eloquence  : 
I  graut  you  too,  our  present  crimes 
<hn  equal  those  of  former  limes. 


PART  THE  SKCOND. 

Vgainst  plain  f^cts  shall  I  cubage, 
To  vindicate  our  righreous  age  ? 
I  know,  that  in  a  modern  list,     .     . 
Bribes  in  full  energy  subsist. 
Since  then  these  arguments  prevail,  • 
And  itching  palms  are  still  so  frail. 
Hence  pohticians,  you  suggest, 
Should  drive  the  nail  that  goes  the  best; 
That  it  shews  parts  and  penetration, 
To  ply  men  with  the  right  temptation. 

To  this  I  humbly  must  dissent : 
Premising,  No  reflexion's  meant. 

Does  justice  or  the  client's  sense 
Teach  lawyers  either  side's  defence.^ 
The  fee  gives  eloquence  its  spirit ; 
That  only  is  the  client's  merit. 

Does  art,  wit,  wisdom,  or  address, 
Obtain  the  prostitute's  caress  ? 
The  guinea,  as  in  other  trades  , 
Vrom  cv'ry  hand  alike  persuades. 
Man,  Scripture  says, is  prone  to  evil; 
P>ut  does  that  vindicate  the  devil  .^ 
Besides,  the  mtire  mankind  are  prone, 
The  less  the  devil's  parts  are  shown. 
Corruption's  not  of  modern  date  ; 
It  hath  been  tried  in  ev'ry  state. 
Great  knaves  of  old  their  pow'r  have  fenc'd 
By  places,  pensions,  bribes  dispensd  ; 
By  these  they  gloried  in  success. 
And  impudently  dar'd  oppress  ;  ■ 
By  these  despoticly  they  sway'd, 
And  slaves  extoll'd  the  hand  that  paid; 
ISor  parts  nor  genius  were  employ'd, 
By  these  alone  were  realms  destroy'd. 

Now  see  these  wretches  in  disgrace, 
Slript  of  their  treasures,  pow'r,  and  place; 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 
View  tbem  abandoned  and  forlorn, 
Expos'd  to  jusr  reproach  and  scorn: 
What  now  is  all  your  pride,  your  boast? 
Where  are  your  slaves,  your  flatt'ring  host? 

What  tongues  now  feed  you  with  applause? 
Where  are  the  champions  of  your  cause? 
TN'ow  ev'n  that  very  fawning  train 
Who  shar'd  the  gleanings  of  your  gain, 
Press  foremost  who  shall  first  accuse 
Your  selfish  jobs,  your  paltry  views. 
Your  narrow  schemes,  your  breach  of  trust. 
And  want  of  talents  to  be  just. 

What  fools  were  these  amidst  their  pow'r  ! 
How  thoughtless  of  their  adverse  hour.' 
What  friends  were  made?  A  hireling  herd, 
l'"or  temporary  voles  preferr'd. 
Was  it,  these  sycophants  to  get. 
Your  bounty  sweil'd  a  nation's  debt? 
Y'ou're  bit.  For  these,  like  Swiss, attend; 
No  longer  pay,  no  longer  friend. 

The  lion  is  ,  beyond  dispute  , 
AUow'd  the  most  majestick  brute; 
His  valour  and  his  gen'rous  mind 
Prove  him  superior  of  his  kind. 
Yet  to  jackalls  ,  as  'tis  averr'd  , 
Some  lions  have  their  pow'r  transfcrr'd : 
As  if  the  parts  of  pimps  and  spies 
To  govern  forests  could  suffice. 

Once,  studious  of  his  private  good. 
A  proud  jackall  oppress'd  the  wood  ; 
To  cram  liis  own  insatiate  jaws 
Invaded  property  and  laws. 
The  forest  groans  with  discontent, 
Fresh  wrongs  the  gen'ral  hate  foment. 
The  spreading  murmurs  reach'd  his  ear; 
His  secret  hours  were  vex'd  with  fear. 


PART  THE  SECOND. 
Night  after  nipfht  he  we!j:;lis  the  case, 
And  feels  the  terrors  of  disgrate. 

By  friends  ,  says  lie,  I'll  f(iiard  my  sen? ; 
Ry  those  ,  malicious  tongues  defeat: 
I'll  strenghteu  pow'r  by  new  alhes. 
And  all  my  clam'rous  foes  despise. 

To  make  the  gen'rous  beasts  his  frieiicls 
He  cringes,  fawns,  and  condescends  ; 
Rut  those  repuls'd  his  abject  court, 
.\.nd  scorn'd  oppression  to  snj)port. 
Iciends  must  be  had.  Ik'  cau'l  sub.sist. 
r.ribcs  shall  new  proselytes  enlist. 
But  these  nought  weigh'd  in  honest  paws  ; 
For  bribes  confess'd  a  wicked  cause :   ' 
Yet  think  not  ev'ry  jiaw  withsiands 
What  had  prevail'd  in  human  hands. 

A  tempting  turnip's  silver  skin 
Drew  a  base  hog  through  tliick  and  thin  ; 
Bought  with  a  stag's  delicious  haunch. 
The  mercenary  wolf  was  slanch  : 
The  convert  fox  grew  warm  and  hearts . 
A  pullet  gaia'd  him  to  the  party  : 
The  golden  pippin  in  his  list, 
A  chatt'ring  monkey  join'd  the  list. 

But  soon,  expos'd  to  publickhate, 
The  fav'rite's  full  redress'd  the  state. 
The  leopard,  vindicating  right, 
Hcid  brought  his  secret  irauds  to  hght. 
As  rats  (  before  the  mansion  falls  ) 
Desert  late  hospitable  walls, 
In  shoals  the  servile  creatures  run, 
To  bow  before  the  rising  sun. 

The  hog  with  warmth  expressed  his  zeal. 
And  was  for  hanging  those  (hat  steal ; 
But  hop'd,  though  low,  the  publick  hoard 
Might  half  a  turnip  still  afford. 


FABLES  BT  JOHN  GAY. 
Since  saving  measures  were  profest, 
A  lamb's  liead  was  the  woif 's  request, 
riie  fox  submitted,  if  to  touch 
A  gosling  Avould  be  deein'd  too  much. 
The  monkey  tliought  his  grin  and  chatter 
Might  ask  a  nut,  or  some  such  matter. 

Ye  hirelings,  hence !  the  leopard  cries ; 
Y'"our  venal  conscience  I  despise. 
He  who  the  pnblick  good  intends 
By  bribes  needs  never  purchase  friends. 
Who  acts  this  just,  this  open  part, 
Is  propt  by  ev'ry  honest  heart. 
Corruption  now  too  late  hath  show'd, 
That  bribes  are  always  ill  bestow'd  :  , 
By  you  your  bubbled  master's  taught, 
Time-serving  tools,  not  friends,  are  bought. 


FABLE  X. 

THE    DEGENERATE    BEES, 

To  the  reverend  Dr.  Swift,  dean  of  St.  Patrick' 


X  HOUGH  courts  the  practice  disallow, 
A  friend  at  all  times  I'll  avow. 
In  politicks  I  know  'tis  wrong  : 
A  friendship  may  be  kept  too  long  ; 
Aud  thai  they  call  the  prudent  part, 
Is  to  wear  iut'rest  next  the  heart. 
As  the  times  take  a  dilf'reut  face. 
Old  friendships  .should  to  new  give  place. 

I  know  too  you  have  many  foes, 
That  owning  jou  is  sharing  those  : 


PART  THE  SECOND.  ,, 

That  ev'ry  knave  in  ev'ry  station, 
Of  high  and  low  denomination , 
For  what  you  speak,  and  what  you  write, 
Dread  you  at  once,  and  bear  you  spite. 
vSuch  freedoms  in  your  works  are  shown, 
They  can't  enjoy  what's  not  their  own. 
All  dunces  too  in  church  and  state 
In  frothy  nonsense  shew  their  hate  ; 
With  all  the  petty  scribbling  crew, 
(  And  those  pert  sots  are  not  a  few, ) 
'Gainst  you  and  Pope  their  envy  spurt  : 
The  booksellers  alone  are  hurt. 

Good  gods  !  by  what  a  powerful  race 
(  For  blockheads  may  have  pow'r  and  place  ) 
Are  scandals  rais'd,  and  libels  writ. 
To  prove  your  honesty  and  wit  I 
Think  with  yourself:  Those  worthy  men, 
You  know,  have  suffer'd  by  your  pen. 
From  them  you've  nothing  but  your  due. 
From  hence,  'tis  plain,  your  friends  are  few. 
Except  myself,  I  know  of  none. 
Besides  the  wise  and  good  alone. 
To  set  the  case  in  fairer  light, 
My  fable  shall  the  rest  recite ; 
"Which,  though  unlike  our  present  state, 
I  for  the  moral's  sake  relate. 

A  bee  of  cunning,  not  of  parts, 
Luxurious,  negligent  of  arts. 
Rapacious,  arrogant,  and  vain, 
Greedy  of  pow'r,  but  more  of  gain, 
Corruption  sow'd  throughout  the  hive. 
Ry  petty  rogues  the  great  ones  thrive. 

As  pow'r  and  wealth  his  views  supplied, 
'Twas  seen  in  overbearing  pride. 
With  him  loud  impudenoe  had  merit : 
The  bee  of  consciehce  wanted  spirit ; 


FAT.LES  r.Y  TO  JIN"  GAY. 
Aud  those  wlio  follow'd  lionoui-'sjules 
Were  langli'd  tQ  scorn  for  squeamish  fools. 
Wealth  claim'd  distinction,  favour,  grace ; 
And  poverty  alone  was  bas«. 
He  treated  industry  with  slight, 
Unless  he  found  his  profit  by't. 
Rights,  laws,  and  liberties  gave  way 
To  bring  his  selllsh  schemes  in  play  : 
The  swarai  forgot  the  common  toil. 
To  share  the  gleanings  of  his  spoil. 

While  vulgar  souls,  of  nari'ow  parts, 
Waste  life  in  low  mechanick  arts, 
Let  us,  says  he,  to  genius  born. 
The  drudg'ry  of  our  fathers  scorn. 
The  wasp  and  drone,  you  must  agree. 
Live  with  more  elegance  than  we. 
Like  gentlemen  they  sport  and  play  ; 
No  bus'ness  interrupts  the  day: 
Their  hours  to  luxury  they  give , 
And  nobly  on  the'.r  neighbours  live. 

A  stubborn  bee,  among  the  swarm. 
With  honest  indignation  Avarm, 
Thus  from  his  cell  with  zeal  replied  ; 

I  slight  thy  frowns,  and  hate  thy  pride. 
The  laws  our  native  rights  protect; 
Offending  thee,  I  those  respect. 
vShall  luxury  corrupt  the  hive, 
And  none  against  the  tovrcnl  strive.^ 
Ex«rt  the  honour  of  your  race  : 
He  builds  his  fise  on  your  disgrace. 
'Tis  industry  our  state  maintains.     . 
'Twas  honest  toils  aud  honest  gains 
That  rais'd  our  sires  to  pow'r  and  fame. 
T5e  virtuous  ;  save  yourselves  from  shame 
Know  that  in  seHish  ends  pursuing 
You  scramble  for  ihe  puWick  ruin. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  i,., 

lie  spoke;  aud,froni  his  cell  dismiss'd, 

Was  insolently  scoff'd  and  liiss'd, 

With  him  a  friend  or  two  resign'd, 

Disdaining  the  degen'rate  kind. 

These  drones,  says  he,  these  insects  vile, 

(  I  treat  them  in  their  proper  style  ) 

May  for  a  time  oppress  the  state  , 

They  own  our  virtue  by  theu-  hate  ; 

Ey  that  our  merits  they  reveal, 

And  recommend  our  publick  zeal  ; 

Disgrac'd  by  this  corrupted  cre\v^. 

We're  honour'd  by  the  virlaous  few. 


FABLE   XL 

THE    PACK.-H0RSE    A>'D    THE    CARKIER. 

To  a  young  nobleman. 

JJegin,  my  lord,  in  early  youth, 
To  suffer,  nay,  encourage  truth  : 
And  blame  me  not  for  disrespect, 
If  I  the  Flatt'rer's  style  reject ; 
With  that,  by  menial  tongues  supplied, 
You're  daily  cocker'd  up  in  pride. 

The  tree's  distinguish'd  by  the  fruit. 
Be  virtue  then  your  first  pursuit ; 
Set  your  great  ancestors  in  view  , 
Like  them  deserve  the  title  too; 
Like  them  ignoble  actions  scorn  : 
Let  virtue  prove  you  greatly  born. 

Tho'  with  less  plate  their  side-board  s|ione, 
Their  conscience  alwavs  was  their  own ; 


3o  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GA\. 

They  ne'er  ajt  levees  meanly  favvn'd, 
Nor  was  their  honour  yearly  pawn'd  : 
Theil-  hands,  by  no  corruption  stain'd, 
The  ministerial  LriLe  disdaiu'd  ; 
They  serv'd  the  crown  with  loyal  zeal; 
Yet  jealous  of  the  puLlick  weal. 
They  stood  ihc  bulwark  of  our  laws, 
And  wore  at  heart  their  country's  cause 
By  neither  place  nor  pension  bouj^ht. 
They  spoke  and  voted  as  they  thought. 
Thus  did  your  sues  adore  their  seat ; 
And  such  alone  are  truly  great. 

If  you  the  paths  of  learning  slight , 
You're  but  a  dunce  in  stronger  liglil; 
In  foremost  rank  the  coward  plac'd 
Is  more  conspic'ously  disgrac'd, 
If  you,  to  serve  a  paltry  end, 
'J'o  knavish  jobs  can  condescend , 
We  pay  you  the  contemptthat's  due  ; 
In  that  you  have  precedc^nce  too. 
Whence  had  you  this  illustrious  name? 
From  virtue  and  uuibleinish'd  fame. 
By  birth  the  name  alone  descends  ; 
Your  honour  on  yourself  depends  ; 
Think  not  your  coronet' can  hide 
Assuming  i;^norance  and  pride. 
Learning  by  study  must  be  won, 
'Twas  ne'er  eutaii'tl  from  son  to  son. 
Superior  worth  your  rank  requires  ; 
For  tliat  mankind  reveres  your  sires  : 
If  you  degeu'rate  from  your  race. 
Their  merits  heighten  your  disgrace. 

A  carrier,  eV'ry  night  and  morn, 
Would  see  his  horses  eat  their  corn. 
This  sunk  the  hostler's  vails,  'tis  true, 
r>ut  then  his  horses  had  their  due. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  ijr 

^\crc  we  so  cautious  in  all  cases, 
Small  gain  would  rise  from  greater  places. 

The  manger  now  had  all  its  measure, 
He  heard  the  grinding  teetli  with  pleasure  ; 
When  ail  at  once  confusion  rung, 
They  snorted,  jostled,  hit ,  and  flung. 
A  pack-horse  turn'd  his  head  aside, 
I'oaming,  his  eye  baUs  swell'd  with  pride, 

Good  gods  !  says  he,  how  hard's  my  lot ! 
Is  th?n  my  high  descent  forgot  ? 
11  Juc'd  to  drudg'ry  and  disgrace, 
(  A  life  unworthy  of  my  race  ) 
Must  I  too  bear  the  vile  attacks 
Of  ragged  scrubs,  and  vulgar  hacks.'* 
See  scurvy  Roan,  that  brute  ill-bred, 
Dares  from  the  manger  thrust  my  head .' 
Shall  I ,  who  boast  a  double  line. 
Oil  offals  of  these  creatures  dine? 
Kick'd  by  old  Ball  I  so  mean  a  foe  ! 
My  honour  suffers  by  the  blov/. 
Newmarket  speaks  my  grandsire's  fame, 
AU  jockeys  still  revere  liis  name  : 
There  yearly  are  his  triumphs  told. 
There  all  his  massy  plates  enroll'd. 
Whene'er  led  forth  upon  the  plain, 
You  saw  him  with  a  liv'ry  train  ; 
Krtur.'iiug  too,  with  laurels  crown'd. 
You  hcaid  the  drums  and  trumpets  sound. 
Let  it  then.  Sir,  be  understood. 
Respect's  my  due  :  for  I  have  blood. 
Vain-giorious  fool  I  the  carrier  cried, 
Respect  was  never  paid  to  pride. 
Know  'twas  thy  giddy  wilful  heart 
Reduc'd  thee  to  this  slavish-  part. 
Did  cot  thy  headstrong  vouth  disdain 
To  learn  the  conduct  of  the  rein  ? 


32  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

Thus  coxcombs,  blind  to  real  merit, 
In  vicious  frolicks  fancy  spirit. 
What  is't  to  me  by  whom  begot? 
Thou  restive,  pert,  conceited  sot. 
Tour  sires  I  rev'rence  ;  'tis  their  due  : 
But,  worthless  fool,  what's  that  to  you  ? 
Ask  all  the  carriers  on  the  road, 
They'll  say  thy  keeping's  ill  bestow'd. 
Then  vaunt  no  more  thy  noble  race, 
That  neither  mends  thy  strength  nor  pace. 
What  profits  me  thy  boast  of  blood  ? 
An  ass  hath  more  intrinsick  good. 
By  outward  shew  let's  not  be  cheated  I 
An  ass  should  hke  an  ass  be  treated. 


FABLE  XII. 

PAN    AND    FORTUNE. 

To  a  young  heir. 

O  00 N  as  your  father's  death  was  known. 
As  if  th'  estate  had  been  their  own 
The  gkmesters  outwardly  exprest 
The  decent  joy  within  your  breast. 
So  lavish  in  your  praise  they  grew, 
As  spoke  their  certain  hopes  in  you. 

One  counts  your  income  of  the  year, 
How  much  in  ready  money  clear. 
No  house,  says  he,  is  more  compleaJt ; 
The  garden's  elegant  and  great. 
How  fine  the  park  around  it  lies  J 
The  limber's  of  a  noble  sire. 


PAIIT  THE  SKCOXD.  i33 

Then  count  his  jewels  and  his  plate. 
I'e.sidt's,  'tis  no  entail'd  estate. 
If  cash  run  low,  his  lands  in  fee 
Are,  or  for  sale,  or  mortgage,  free. 

Thus  they,  before  you  threw  the  main, 
Seem'd  to  anticipate  their  gain. 
Would  you,  when  thieves  were  known  abroad, 
Bring  forth  your  treasures  in  the  road ;-" 
Would  not  the  fool  abet  the  stealth, 
Who  rashly  thus  exposed  his  wealth? 
Yet  this  you  do,  whene'er  you  play 
Among  the  gentlemen  of  pvey. 

Could  fools  to  keep  their  own  contri\  e, 
On  what,  on  whom  could  gamesters  thTi%i'.'' 
Is  it  in  charity  you  game 
To  save  your  worthy  gang  from  shaiiie  ? 
Unless  you  furnish'd  daily  bread. 
Which  way  could  idleness  be  fed.-* 
Could  these  professors  of  deceit 
Within  the  law  no  longer  cheat, 
'J'h.'^y  must  run  bolder  risks  for  prey. 
And  strip  the  trav'ler  on  the  v/ay. 
Thus  in  your  annual  rents  they  share, 
And  'scape  the  noose  from  year  to  yeL-v. 
Consider,  ere  you  make  the  bet, 
That  sum  might  cross  your  tailor's  debt. 
When  you  the  pilf'ring  rattle  shake, 
Is  not  your  honour  too  at  stake.? 
Must  you  pot  by  mean  lies  evade 
To-morrow^'s  d^s  from  ev'ry  trade  .^ 
By  promises  so  often  paid. 
Is  yet  your  tailor's  bill  defray'd  ? 
I'.Iust  you  not  pitifully  fawn; 
To  have  ^^otir  butcher's  writ  withdrawn  i' 
This  must  be  done.  In  debts  of  jday 
Your  honour  suffers  no  delay  : 

11 


i34  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

And  uot  this  year's  and  next  year's  rent 
The  sons  or'  rapine  can  content. 
Look  round.  The  wrecks  of  play  hehold, 
Estates  disnieniber'd,  raortgag'd,  sold! 
Their  owners,  not  to  jails  coniin'd, 
Shew  equal  poverty  of  mind. 
.    Some,  who  the  spoil  of  knaves  were  made, 
Too  late  attempt  to  learn  their  trade. 
Some,  for  the  folly  of  one  hour. 
Become  the  dirty  tools  of  pow'r. 
And,  with  the  mercenary  list. 
Upon  court-charity  subsist. 

You'll  find  at  last  this  maxim  true, 
tools  are  the  game  which  knaves  pursue. 

The  forest,  a  whole  cent'ry's  shade, 
Must  be  one  wasteful  ruin  made. 
No  mercy's  shewn  to  age  or  kind; 
The  gen'ral  massacre  is  sign'd. 
The  park  too  shaies  the  dreadful  fate. 
For  duns  grow  louder  at  the  gate. 
Stern  clowns  obedient  to  the  'squire, 
(  What  will  nor  barb'rous  hands  for  hire.^) 
With  brawny  arms  repeat  the  stroke  : 
Fall'n  are  the  ehn  and  rev'rend  oak. 
Through  the  long  wood  loud  axes  sound, 
And  echo  groans  with  ev'ry  wound. 

To  see  the  desolation  spread. 
Pan  drops  a  tear,  and  hangs  his  head; 
His  bosom  now  with  fury  burns; 
Beneath  his  hoof  the  dicejlie  spurns. 
Cards  too,  in  peevish  ])assion  torn. 
The  sport  of  whirling  winds  are  borue. 

To  snails  invet'rate  hate  I  bear, 
Who  spoil  the  verdure  of  the  year; 
The  caterpillar  I  detest, 
The  blooming  spring's  voraclcns  pest ; 


PART  THE  SECOND.  i3; 

The  locust  too,  whose  rav'nons  baad 
Spreads  sudden  famine  o'er  the  land. 
But  what  are  these  ?  The  dice's  throw 
At  once  hath  laid  a  forest  low. 
The  cards  are  dealt,  the  bet  is  made, 
And  the  wide  park  hath  lost  its  shade. 
Thus  is  my  kingdom's  pride  defac'd. 
And  all  its  ancient  glories  waste. 
All  this,  he  cries,  is  Fortune's  doing : 
'Tis  thus  she  meditates  my  ruin. 
By  Fortune,  that  false,  fickle  jade. 
More  havock  in  one  hour  is  made. 
Than  all  the  hungry  insect  race 
Combin'd  can  in  an  age  deface. 

Fortune,  by  chance,  who  near  liim  past, 
O'erheard  the  vile  aspersion  cast.  * 

Why,  Pan,  says  she,  what's  all  this  rant.' 
'Tis  ev'ry  country-bubble's  cant; 
Am  I  the  patroness  of  vice  ? 
Is't  I  who  cog  or  palm  the  dice  ? 
Did  I  the  shuffling  art  reveal. 
To  mark  the  cards  or  range  the  deal  ? 
Ill  all  th'  employments  men  pursue, 
I  mind  the  least  what  gamesters  do. 
There  may,  if  computation's  just , 
One  now  and  then  my  conduct  trust : 
I  blame  the  fool,  for  what  can  I, 
When  ninety- nine  my  pow"r  defy.^ 
These  trust  alone  their  fingers'  ends, 
And  not  one  stake  on  me  depends. 
Whene'er  the  gaming  board  is  set, 
Two  classes  of  mankind  are  met : 
But  if  Ave  count  the  greedy  race. 
The  knaves  fill  up  the  greater  space. 
'Tis  a  gross  error,  held  in  srliools, 
That  Fortune  always  favours  fools. 


TABLES  BY  JOHN  GAT. 
In  play  it  never  bears  dispute  ; 
That  doctrine  these  fell'd  oaks  confute  : 
Then  why  to  me  such  rancour  shew  ? 
'Tis  folly,  Pan,  that  is  thy  foe. 
By  nie  his  late  estate  he  won, 
But  he  by  folly  was  undone. 


FABLE  XIII. 

TLUTXIS,    CUPID,    4lND    T  I  M  E. 

\Jf  all  the  burdens  man  must  bear. 
Time  seems  most  galling  and  severe  : 
Beneath  this  grievous  load  oppress'd, 
Whe  daily  meet  some  friend  distressM. 

What  can  one  do  ?  I  rose  at  nine  : 
'Tis  full  six  hours  before  we  dine : 
Six  hours  .'  no  earthly  thing  to  do .' 
Would  I  had  doz'd  in  bed  till  two ! 

A  pamphlet  is  before  him  spread, 
And  almost  half  a  page  is  read  : 
Tir'd  with  the  study  of  the  day, 
The  fluttering  sheels  are  toss'd  away. 
He  opes  his  snuff-box,  hums  an  air. 
Then  yawns  and  stretches  in  his  chair. 

Not  twenty  by  the  minute  hand  I 
Good  gods  !  says  he,  my  watch  must  s?a'al 
How  muddling  'lis  on  books  to  pore  I 
I  though'  I'd  read  an  hour  and  more. 
The  morning,  of  all  hours,  I  hate. 
One  can't  contrive  to  rise  too  late. 

To  make  ihe  minutes  faster  run, 
Then  too  his  tiresome  self  to  shun. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  137 

To  the  next  coffee-house  he  speeds. 
Takes  np  the  news,  some  scraps  he  reads. 
Saunt'ring,  from  chair  to  chair  he  trails  ; 
Now  drinks  his  tea,  now  bites  his  nails. 
He  spies  a  partner  of  his  woe ; 
By  chat  afflictions  lighter  grow  ; 
Each  other's  grievances  they  share, 
And  thns  their  dreadful  hours  compare. 

Says  Tom',  since  all  men  must  confess 
That  time  lies  heavy  more  or  less, 
Why  should  it  be  so  hard  to  get 
Till  two  a  party  at  piquet .'' 
Play  might  relieve  the  lagging  morn  : 
By  cards  long  wintry  nights  are  borne. 
Does  not  quadrille  amuse  the  fair, 
Night  after  night,  throughout  the  year  .^ 
Vapours  and  spleen  forgot,  at  play 
They  cheat  uncounted  hours  away. 

My  case,  says  Will,  then  mnst  be  hard, 
By  want  of  skill  from  play  debarr'd. 
Courtiers  kill  time  by  A'arious  ways  ; 
Dependance  wears  out  half  their  days. 
How  happy  these,  whose  time  ne'er  stands  ! 
Attendance  takes  it  off  their  hands. 
Were  it  not  for  this  cursed  show'r. 
The  park  had  whil'd  away  an  hour. 
At  court,  without  or  place  or  view, 
I  daily  lose  an  hour  or  two. 
It  fully  answers  my  design, 
When  I  have  pick'd  up  friends  to  dine, 
The  tavern  makes  our  burden  light ; 
Wine  puts  our  time  and  care  to  flight. 
At  six,  (  hard  case  !  )  ihev  call  to  pay. 
Where  can  one  go  ?  I  hate  the  play. 
From  six  to  ten  I  unless  I  sleep, 
Ouc  cannot  spend  the  hours  so  cheap. 

12. 


;S  1  A  B  L  E  S  BY  J  O  K  N  G  A  Y. 

The  comedy's  no  sooner  done, 
But  some  assembly  is  bcfjun  : 
Loit'ring,  from  room  to  room  I  stray  ; 
Converse,  but  notliing  hear  or  say  : 
-    Quite  tir'd,  from  fair  to  fair  I  roam. 
vSo  soon!  I  dread  the  thoughts  of  home. 
Fiom  thence  to  quicken  slow-pac'd  night 
Again  my  tavern-friends  invite  : 
Here  too  our  early  mornings' pass, 
'Till  drowsy  .sleep  retard  the  glass. 

Thus  they  tlieir  wretched  life  benioni;.. 
And  make  each  other's  case  their  ov.  ii. 

Consider,  frii^nds,  no  hour  rolls  oi?, 
]>ut  something  of  your  grief  is  gone. 
Were  you  to  schemes  of  bus'ness  bred, 
Did  you  the  paths  of  learning  tread  ; 
Your  hours,  your  days,  would  fly  too  f.i;  ' 
You'd  then  regret  the  minute  past. 
Time's  fugitive  and  light  as  wind  .' 
'Tis  indolence  that  clogs  your  mind  ! 
That  load  from  off  your  spirits  shake  ; 
You'll  own,  and  grieve  for  your  mistake. 
Awhile  your  thoughtless  spleen  suspeud. 
Then  read;  and,  if  you  can,  attend. 

As  Plutus,  to  divert. his  care, 
Walk'd  forth  one  morn  to  take  the  air, 
Cupid  o'<^rtook  his  strutting  j)ace. 
Each  star'd  upon  the  stranger's  face, 
'Till  recollection  set  'em  right ; 
For  each  knew  t'other  but  by  sight. 
After  some  complimenlal  talk, 
Time  met  'em,  bow'd,and  join'd  their  wall 
Their  chat  on  various  subjects  ran, 
But  most,  what  cacli  had  done  for  man. 
Plutus  assumes^  haughty  air, 
•lust  like  onr  puree-pioud  fellows  lu  re. 


PART  THE  SECOND. 

L<:t  kings,  says  he ,  let  coblers  tell, 
Whose  gifts  among  mankind  excel. 
Consider  courts  ;  what  draws  their  train  ? 
Think  you  'tis  loyalty  or  gain? 
That  statesman  hath  the  strongest  hold, 
Whose  tool  of  politicks  is  gold, 
r.y  that,  in  former  reigns,  'tis  said, 
The  knave  in  pow'r  hath  senates  led  ; 
By  that  alone  he  svvay'd  debates. 
Enrich' d  himself,  and  beggar'd  states. 
Forego  your  boast.  You  must  conclude, 
That's  most  esteem'd  that's  most  pursu'd. 
Think  too  in  what  a  woful  plight 
That  wretch  must  live  whose  pocket's  light. 
Are  not  his  hours  by  want  deprest.'' 
Penurious  care  corrodes  his  breast. 
Without  respect,  or  love,  or  friends. 
His  solitary  day  descends. 

You  might,  says  Cupid,  doubt  mv  parts, 
My  knowledge  too  in  human  hearts, 
Should  I  the  pQw'r  of  gold  dispute, 
Which  great  examples  might  confute. 
I  know,  when  nothing  else  prevails, 
Persuasive  money  seldom  fails  ; 
That  beauty  too,  like  other  wares. 
Its  price,  as  well  as  conscience,  bears. 
Then  marriage,  as  of  late  profest. 
Is  but  a  money -job  at  best. 
Consent ,  compliance  may  be  sold  ; 
But  love's  beyond  the  price  of  gold. 
Smugglers  there  are  who  by  retail 
Expose  what  they  call  love  to  sale. 
Such  bargains  are  an  arrant  cheat : 
You  purchase  flatt'ry  and  deceit. 
Those  who  true  love  have  ever  tried, 
(The  common  cares  of  life  supplied) 


FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

No  wants  endui'e,  no  wishes  make, 

But  ev'ry  real  joy  partake. 

All  comfort  on  themselves  depends : 

They  want  not  pow'r ,  nor  wealth,  nor  friends. 

Love  then  hath  ev'ry  bliss  in  store  : 

'Tis  friendship,  and  'tis  something  more. 

Each  other  ev'ry  wish  they  give  : 

Not  to  know  love,  is  not  to  live. 

Or  love,  or  money.  Time  replied. 
Were  men  the  question  to  decide, 
Would  hear  the  prize  :  on  both  intent, 
My  boon's  neglected  or  mispent. 
*Tis  I  who  measure  vital  space, 
.And  deal  out  vears  to  human  race. 
Though  little  priz'd,  and  seldom  sought, 
Without  jne  love  and  gold  are  nought. 
How  does  the  miser  time  employ  ? 
Did  I  e'er  see  him  life  enjoy.** 
By  me  forsook,  the  hoards  he  won 
Are  scatter' d  by  his  lavish  son. 
By  me  all  useful  arts  are  gain'd; 
Wealth,  learning,  wisdom,  is  attain'd, 
Who  then  would  think,  since  such  my  pow'r, 
That  e'er  I  knew  an  idle  hour  .' 
So  subtle  and  so  swift  I  fly, 
Love's  not  more  fugitive  than  I, 
Who  hath  not  heard  coquettes  complain 
Of  days,  months,  years,  mispent  in  vain  ? 
For  time  misus'd  they  pine  and  waste, 
And  love's  sweet  pleasure  never  taste. 
Those  who  direct  iheix  time  aright, 
If  love  or  wealth  their  hopes  excite, 
In  each  pursuit  fit  hours  employ'd, 
And  both  by  lime  have  been  enjoy 'd. 
How  heedless  then  are  mortals  grown  ! 
How  little  is  their  int'rest  known  ' 


PART  TilE  SLCO:SD. 
la  ev'ry  view  they  ought  to  mind  ine; 
For  when  ouce  lost  they  never  find  me. 
He  spoke.  The  goils  no  more  contest. 
And  his  superior  gift  confest. 
That  lime, 'when  truly  understood, 
Is  the  most  precious  earthly  good. 


k-».»-fc-V».  ■»/W».T 


FABLE    XIV. 

THE   OWL,  THE  SWA.N,  THE  COCK,  THE   SPIDER,  THE   A.SS, 
A.N1)    THE    FARMER. 

To  a  Mother. 

V^ ONVERsiNG  with  your  sprightly  boys, 
Your  eyes  have  spoke  the  mother's  joys. 
With  what  delight  I've  heard  you  quote 
Their  sayings  in  imperfect  note  .' 

I  grant,  in  hody  and  in  mind, 
Nature  appears  profusely  kind. 
Trust  not  to  that.  Act  you  your  part; 
Imprint  just  morals  on  their  heart; 
Impartially  their  talents  scan  : 
Just  education  forms  the  man. 

Perhaps  (  their  genius  yet  unknown  ) 
Each  lot  of  li.'e's  already  thrown ; 
That  this  shall  plead,  the  next  shall  fight, 
The  last  assert  the  rliurch's  right. 
I  censure  not  the  fond  intent; 
But  how  precarious  is  th'  event  J 
By  talents  misapplied  and  crost, 
Consider,  all  your  sons  are  lost. 

One  day  ( the  tale's  by  Martial  penn'd  ) 
A  father  thus  address'd  his  friend  : 


,2        FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

To  train  my  boy,  and  call  fortli  sense, 
You  know  I've  stuck  at  no  expence, 
I've  tried  him  in  the  sev'ral  arts, 
(  The  lad,  no  doubt,  hath  latent  parts  ) 
Yet  trying  all,  he  nothing  knows ; 
But,  crab-like,  rather  backward  goes. 
Teach  me  what  yet  remains  undone; 
'Tis  your  advice  shall  fix  my  son. 
Sir,  says  the  friend,  I've  weigh'd  the  matter. 
Excuse  me,  for  I  scorn  to  flatter : 
Make  him  (  nor  think  his  genius  checkt) 
A  herald  or  an  architect. 

Perhaps,  as  commonly  'tis  knawn, 
He  heard  thadvice,  and  took  his  own. 

The  boy  wants  wit :  he's  sent  to  school, 
Where  learning  but  improves  the  fool  : 
The  college  next  must  give  him  parts, 
And  cram  him  with  the  lib'ral  arts. 
Whether  he  blunders  at  the  bar, 
Or  owes  his  infamy  to  war  ; 
Or. if  by  licence  or  degree 
The  sexton  shares  the  doctor's  fee; 
Or  from  the  jiulpit  by  the  hour 
He  weekly  floods  of  nonsense  ponr, 
We  find  (  th'  intent  of  nature  foil'd  ) 
A  tailor  or  a  butcher  spoil'd. 

Thus  ministers  have  royal  boons 
Conferr'd  on  blockheads  and  buffoons  •. 
In  spite  of  nature,  merit,  wit, 
Their  friends  for  ev'ry  post  were  fit. 

But  now  let  ev'ry  muse  confess 
That  merit  finds  its  due  success. 
Th'  examples  of  our  days  regard  ; 
Where's  virtue  seen  without  reward  ? 
Distingnish'd,  and  in  place,  you  find 
Desert  and  worth  of  ev'ry  kind. 


PART  THE  S  E  C  O  ^I  D.  ,/,  3 

Survey  the  rev'reud  bench  and  .see 
Religion,  learning,  piety ; 
The  patron,  ere  he  recommends. 
Sees  his  own  image  in  his  friend  s. 
Is  honesty  disgrac'd  and  poor? 
What  is't  to  us  what  was  before  ? 

We  all  of  times  corrupt  have  heard, 
When  paltry  minions  were  preferr'd; 
When  all  great  oflloes,by  dozens. 
Were  illl'd  by  brothers,  sons,  and  cousins. 
What  matter  ignorance  and  pride  ? 
The  man  was  happily  allied. 
Provided  that  his  clerk  was  good, 
Wbat  though  he  nothing  understood  ? 
In  church  and  state,  the  sorry  race 
Grew  more  conspicdous  fools  in  place. 
Such  heads,  as  then  a  treaty  made. 
Had  bungled  in  the  cobler's  trade. 

Consider,  patrons,  that  such  elves 
Expose  your  folly  with  themselves, 
'lis  yours,  as  'tis  the  parent's  c-are. 
To  fix  each  genius  in  its  sphere. 
Your  partial  hand  can  wealth  dispense. 
But  never  give  a  blockhead  sense. 
An  owl  of  magisterial  air, 
Of  solemn  voice,  of  brow  austere, 
Assum'd  the  pride  of  human  race, 
And  bore  his  Avisdom  in  his  face; 
Not  to  depreciate  learned  eyes, 
I've  seen  a  pedant  look  as  wise.    . 

Within  a  barn,  from  noise  retir'd. 
He  scorn'd  the  world,  himself  admir'dj 
And,  like  an  ancient  sage,  conceal'd 
The  follies  publick  life  reveai'd. 

Philosophers  of  old  he  read, 
Their  country's  youth  to  science  bred, 


lAULES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 
Their  luauners  forin'd  for  ev'ry  station 
And  destiu'd  each  his  occupation. 
When  \criophon,  by  numbers  brav'd, 
Jletreated,  and  a  people  sav'd, 
That  laurel  \vas  not  all  his  own  ; 
The  plant  by  Socrates  was  sown. 
To  Aristotle's  greater  name 
The  Macedonian  ow'd  his  fame. 

Th'  Athenian  bh'd,  with  pride  replete. 
Their  talents  equall'd  in  conceit ; 
And,  copying  the  Socratick  rule. 
Set  up  for  master  of  a  school. 
Bogmatick  jargon  learnt  by  heart , 
Trite  sentences   hard  terms  of  art. 
To  vulgar  ears  seem'd  so  profound,  , 
They  fancied  learning  in  the  sound. 

The  school  had  fame  :  the  crowded  place 
With  pupils  sAvarm'd  of  ev'ry  race. 
"With  these  the  swan's  maternal  care 
Had  sent  her  scarce-fledg'd  cygnet  heir: 
The  hen,  tho'  fond  and  loth  to  part. 
Mere  lodg'd  the  darling  of  her  heart: 
The  spider,  of  mechanick  kind, 
Aspir'd  to  science  more  refin'd  : 
'I'he  ass  learnt  metaphors  and  tropes, 
r>ut  most  on  musick  llx'd  his  hopes. 

The  pupils  uow,advanc'd  in  age, 
VVerc  cali'd  to  tread  life's  busy  stage  ; 
A  ad  to  the  master  'twas  submitted. 
That  each  might  to  his  part  be  filled. 

The  swan ,  says  he,  in  arms  shall  shine  ; 
The  soldier's  glorious  (oil  be  thine. 
The  cock  shall  mighty  >veallh  attain  : 
Go,  seek  it  on  the  stormy  main. 

The  court  shall  be  the  spider's  sphere  I 
Pon'r,  fortune  ,. shall  reward  him  theij. 


PART  the' SECOND.  145 

In  musick's  art  the  ass's  fame 
Shall  eiuulate  Corelli's  name. 

Each  took  the  part  that  he  advis'd, 
And  all  were  equally  despis'd. 
A  farmer,  at  his  folly  raov'd, 
The  dnll  preceptor  thus  reprov'd  :^ 

r>lockhead,  says  he,  by  what  you've  done, 
One  would  have  thoupi^ht  'em  each  your  son  : 
For  parents,  to  their  offspring  blind, 
Consult  nor  parts  nor  turn  of  mind  ; 
l)Ut  ev'n  in  infancy  decree 
\Miat  this,  what  t'other  son  should  be. 
Had  you  with  judgment  welgn'd  the  case,  * 

Their  genius  tli^us  had  lix'd  thei^;  pla'ce. 
The  swan  had  learnt  the  sailor's  art: 
The  cock  had  play'd  the  soldier's  part ; 
The  spider  in  the  weaver's  trade 
With  credit  had  a  fortune  made  ; 
But  for  the  foal,  in  ev'ry  class 
The  blockhead  had  appear'd  an  aas. 


FABLE    XV. 

THE   COOK-MAID,  THE  TURNSPfr,AND  THE   OX. 

To  a  poof  Man. " 

V^  o  N  s  1 1)  E.R  man  in  ev'ry  sphere, 
Then  tell  me, is  your  lot  severe.^ 
'Tis  rauvmuc,  tiisconteut,  distrust. 
That  makes  you  wretched.   God  is  just. 

I  grant  that  hunger  idusj  he  i'ed^ 
That  t^il  too  earns  thy  daily  bread. 

i3 


146         FABLES   BY  JOHN    GAY. 

What  tlien?  Thy  wants  are  seen  and  known : 
But  ev'ry  mortal  feels  his  own. 
We're  born  a  restless  needy  crew  : 
Shew  me  the  happier  man  than  yon. 

Adam,  though  bless'd  above  his  kind, 
For  want,  of  social  woman  pin'd. 
Eve's  wants  the  subtle  serpent  saw, 
Her  fickle  taste  transgress' d  the  liiw : 
Thus  fell  our  sires  ;  and  their  disgrace 
The  curse  entail'd  on  human  race. 

When  Philip's  son,  by  glcgy  led, 
Had  o'er  the  g^obe  his  empire  spread; 
When  altars  to  his  name  were  dress'd, 
That  he  was  man  his  tears  confess'd. 

The  hopes  of  avarice  are  checkt  : 
The  proud  man  always  wants  respect. 
What  various  wants  on  pow'r  attend ! 
Ambition  never  gains  its  end. 
WJio  hath  not  heard  the  rich  complain 
Of  surfeits' and  corporeal  pain.*^ 
He,  barr'd  from  ev'ry  use  of  wealth  , 
TInvies  the  ploughman's  strength  and  health. 
Another  in  a  beauteous  wife 
Finds  all  the  miseries  of  life  : 
Domestick  jars  and  jealous  fear 
Imbitter  all  his  days  with  care. 
*  This  wants  an  heir;  the  line  is  lost  ; 
Why  was  that  vain  email  ingrost.** 
iCanstthou  discern  another's  mind? 
Why  is't  you  envy.**  Envy's  blitd. 
,Tell  Envy,  when  she  would  annoy* 
That  thousands  want  what  you  enjoy. 

The  dinner  must  be*dish'd  at  one. 
Where's  this  vexatious  turnspit* gone.** 
Unless  the  srulking  curis  caught, 
The  surloin's  spoil'd,  and  I'm  in  fank. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  i 

Thus  said;  (  for  sure  you'll  think  it  fit 
That  i  the  cook-ma, d's  oaths  orait  ) 
Wifh  all  the/ury  of  a  cook, 
Her  cooler  kitchen  Nan  forsook. 
The  hroomstick  o'er  her  head  j-he  waves; 
She  Sweats,  she  stamps,  she  puffs,  she  raves. 
The  sneaking  cur  before  her  flies  : 
She  whistles,  calls  ;  fair  speech  she  tries  : 
These  nought  avail.  Her  choler  burns  ;. 
The  fist  and  cudgel  threat  by  turns  : 
With  hasty,  stride  sl^  pregies  near ; 
He  slinks  aloof,  and  howls  with  fear. 
Was  ever  cur  so  curs'd  .'  he  cried, 
What  star  did  at  my  birth  preside  ! 
Am  I  for  life  by  compact  bound 
To  tread  the  wheel's  eternal  round.' 
Inglorious  task  !  Of  all,  our  race 
No  slave  is  half  so  mean  and  base. 
Had  fate  a  kinder  lot  assign'd. 
And  form'd  me  of  the  lap-dog  kind, 
I  then,  in  higher  life  cmploy'd. 
Had  indolence  and  ease  enjoy'd  ; 
And,  like  a  gentleman,  carest, 
Had  been  the  lady's  fav'rite  guest : 
Or  were  I  sprui»g  from  spaniel  line, 
Was  his  sagacious  nostril  mine, 
r.y  me,  their  never  erring  guide, 
l''rom  wood  and  plain  their  feasts  supplied, 
Knights>  squires,  attendant  on  my  pace, 
Had  shar'd  the  pleasures  of  the  chase. 
Endu'd  with  native  strength  and  lire, 
Why  call'd  I  not  the  lion  sire  ? 
A  lion!  such  mean  views  I  scorn. 
Why  was  I  not  of  woman  born? 
Who  dares  with  reason's  pow'r  contend  ? 
On  man  vrt  brutal  slaves  depend  : 


148  FABLES  BY  JOHN  GAY. 

To  him  all  creatures  tribute  pay, 
And  luxury  ejaiploys  his  day.        • 

An  ox  by  chance  o'erheai<l  his  moan, 
And  thus  rebuk'd  the  lazy  drone: 

Dare  you  at  partial  late  repine? 
How  kind's  your  lot  compar'd  with  mine  ! 
Decreed  to  toii,the  barb 'rous knife 
Hath  sPAer'd  nie  from  social  life  ; 
TJrg'd  l)y  the  stimulating:^  g^^ad, 
I  drag  the  cutubroris  ^vapgoii's  load: 
'Tis  mine  to  ta^e  the  stubb.orri  plain 
Break  the  s.tiff  soil,  and  house  th%'  grain : 
Y'et  I  without  a  murmur  bear 
The  various  labours  of  the  year-. 
T>ut  then  consider  that  6ne  day 
(  Perhaps  the  hour's  not  far  a\v;jy  ) 
You,  by  the  duties  of  your  post, 
Shall  turn  the  spit  when  I'm  the  roast  ; 
And  for  reward  shall  share  the  feast, 
I  mean  shall  pick  my  bones  at  least. 

'Till  now,  th'  astonish'd  cur  replies, 
I  look'd  on  all  with  envious  eyes. 
How  false  we  judge  by  what  appears  -' 
All  creatures  feci  their  several  cares. 
If  thus  yon  mighty  beast  complains, 
Perhaps  man  knows  superior  pain*. 
Let  envy  then  no  n5ore  torment. 
Think  on  the  o.x,  and  learn  content. 

Thus  ^id  ;  close  foH'wing  at  her  heel. 
With  chea^'ful  heart  he  mounts  the  wheel. 


PART  THE  SECOND.  •;  149 

FABLE    XVI. 

THE  RAVENS,  THE  SEXTON,  ANf)  THE  FARTHWORM. 

To  Laura. 

Ju  A.URA,  niellxiuks  you're  over-nice. 
True.  Flatt'ry  is  a  shocking  vice  ; 
Yet  sure,  vshcne'cr  the  praise  is  just^ 
One  may  coiuiueud  without  disgust. 
Am  I  a  privilege  denied, 
Indulg'd  by  ev'ry  tongue  beside  .•* 
How  singular  are  all  your  uays  .' 
A  woman,  and  averse  to  praise  .' 
If  'tis  oiTence  such  truths  to  tell, 
Why  do  your  merits  thus  excel  .►* 

Since  then  I  dare  not  speak  my  mind, 
A  truth  conspicuous  to  mankind  ; 
Though  in  full  lustre  ev'ry  grace 
Distinguish  your  celestial  face  : 
Though  bt  allies  of  inferior  ray 
Like  stars  before  tbc  orb.  of  day 
Turn  pale  and  fade ;  I  check  my  lays, 
Admiring  what  I  dare  not  praise. 

If  you  the  tribute  due  disdain, 
The  muse's  mortifying  strain 
Shall,  hke  a  woman,  in  mere  spite. 
Set  beauty  in  a  moral  light, 

Thougk  such  revenge  might  shock  the  eiir 
Of  many  a  celebrated  fair  ; 
I  mean  that  superficial  race 
Whose  thoughts  ne'er  reach  bevopd  their  face  ; 

i3. 


■PABLES   BY  JOHN   CAY. 
What's  that  to  you  ?  I  but  displease 
Such  ever-girlish  ears  as  these. 
Tirtue  can  brook  the  thoughts  of  age. 
That  lasts  the  same  through  ev'ry  stage. 
Though  you  by  time  must  suffer  more 
Than  ever  woman  lost  before  ; 
To  age  is  such  indiff'rence  shown, 
As  if  yout  face  were  not  yoxir  own. 

AVere  you  by  Antoninus  taught.^ 
Or  is  it  native  strength  of  thought, 
That  thus,  Avithout  concern  or  fright,     ' 
You  view  yourself  by  reason's  light? 
Those  eyes  of  so  divine  a  ray. 
What  are  ttrey  ?  Mduld'ring,  mortal  clay. 
Those  features,  cast  in  heav'nly  mould. 
Shall,  like  my  coaj"ser  earth,  grow  old  ; 
Like  common  grass,  the  fairest  flowV 
Must  feel  the  hoary  season's  pow'r. 

How  weak,  how  vain  is  human  pride ! 
Dares  man  upon-himself  confide.-* 
The  wretch  who  glories  in  his  gain 
Amasses  heaps  on  heaps  in  vain. 
Why  lose  we  life  in  anxious  cares 
To  lay  in  hoards  for  future  years  .*' 
Can  those,  when  tortur'd  by  disease, 
Chear  our  sick  heart,  ot  purchase  case.^ 
Can  those  prolong  one  gasp  of  breath, 
Or  calm  the  troubled  hour  oi  death? 

What's  beauty  ?  Call  ye  that  your  own  ? 
A  flow'r  that  fades  as  soon  as  blown. 
What's  man  in  all  his  boast  of  sway  ? 
Perhaps  the  tyrant  of  a  day. 

Alike  the  laws  of  life  take  place 
Throij^h  ev'ry  branch  of  human  race  :' 
The  monarch  of  long  regal  line 
Was  rais'^l  from  dust  as  frail  as  mine. 


PART  THE  SECOND. 
Oil  he  pour  health  into  his  veins, 
Or  cool  the  fever's  restless  p^ns  ? 
Can  he,  worn  down  in  nature  s  course, 
New-brace  his  feeble  nerves  with  ftncv? 
Can  he  (how  vain  is  mortal  pow'r !) 
Stretch  life  beyond  the  destin'd  liour? 
Consider,  man ;  weigh  well  th5»frame  ; 
The  king,  the  beggar  is  the  same. 
Dust  form'd  us  all.   Each  breathes  his  day, 
Then  sinks  into  his  native  clay. 

Beneath  a  venerable  yew, 
'Xnat  in  the  lonely  church-yard  grew. 
Two  ravens  sate.  In  solemn  croak 
Thus  one  his  huugi-y  friend  bespoke : 

Methinks  I  scent  some  rich  repast ; 
The  savour  streAgthens  with  the  blast: 
Snutf  then,  the  prorais'd  feast  inhale  ; 
I  taste  the  carcase  in  the  gale. 
Near  yonder  trees,  the  farmer's  steed, 
From  toil  and  daily  drudg'ry  freed, 
Hath  i^roan'd  his  last.   A,  dainty  treat  ! 
To  birds  of  taste  delicious  meat. 

A  sexton,  busy  at  his  trade. 
To  hear  their  chat  suspends  his  spade. 
Death  struck  him  with  no  farther  thought 
Than  merely  as  the  fees  he  brought. 
Was  ever  two  such  blund'ring  fools, 
In  brains  and  manners  less  than  owls  ! 
Blockheads,  says  he,  learn  move  respect: 
Know  ye  on  whom  yOu  thus  reflect  ? 
In  this  same  grave  (who  does  me  ri^lit. 
Must  own  the  work  is  strong  and  tight) 
The  'squire  that  yon  fair  hall  possess'd,     • 
To-night  shall  lay  his  bones  at  rest. 
Whence  could  the  gross  mistake  proceed 
The  'squire  was  somewhat  fat  indeed. 


TABLES    BY  JOHN   GAY. 
What  then  ?  The  meanest  bird  of.prey 
Such  want  of  sense  could  ne'er  betray : 
For  sure  some  diff'reuce  must  be  found  • 
(Suppose  the  smellinp  organ  sound) 
In  carcasses,  (say. what  we  can) 
Or  where's  the  dignity  of  man  ? 

With  d\M  respect  to  human  race, 
The  ravens  undertook  the  case. 
In  such  similitude  pi  scent, 
Man  ne'er  could  think  reflexions  meant. 
As  Epicures  extol  a  treat, 
And  seem  their  sav'ry  words  to  eat,       * 
They  prais'd  dead  horse,  lux.urious  food, 
The  ven'son  of  the  prescienl. brood. 

The  sexton's  indignation  mov'd, 
The  mean  comparison  repix.v'd  ; 
Their  undisceriung  palate  blyni'd, 
Which  two-lcgg'd  carrion  thus  defam'd. 

Reproachful  speech  from  either  side 
The  want  of  argument  supplied  : 
They  rail,  revile;  as  often  ends 
The  contest  of  jdisputing  friends. 

Hohl,  says  the  fowl ;  since  buman  price 
With  confutation  neV'v  complied,     • 
Let's  state  the  case,  aad  ilieu  refer 
The  knotty  point :  for  tastes  may  err. 

As  thus  he  spoke,  from  out  the  mould 
An  earth-woru),  hupe  of  size,  unroU'd 
His  monstrous  length.  They  strait  agree 
To  phoose  him  as  their  referee. 
So  to  th'  experience  of  his  jaM« 
Eacli  states  the  merits  of  the  cause. 
•     He  paus'd,  and  with  a  solenw  tone 
Thus  made  bis  sage  opini<ln  knowu. 

On. carcasses  ol  ev'ry  kind 
This  maw  hath  elegantly  din'd; 


,  PART  THE  SECOND. 
Provok'd  by  luxury  or  need, 
Oa  beast,  or  fowl, or  man  I  feed: 
Such  small  distinction's  in  the  savour, 
By  turns  I  choose  the  fancied  flavour, 
Yet  I  must  own,  that  huniao  beast, 
A  glutton,  is  the  rankest  feast. 
Man,  cease  this  boast ;  for  human  pride 
liath  various  tracts  to  range  beside. 
The  prince  who  kept  the  world  in  awe, 
Tiie  judge  whose  dictate  iix'd  the  law, 
The  rich,  the  poor,  the  great,  the  small, 
Are  leveli'd.  Death  confounds  tliem  all. 
Then  think  not  that  we  reptiles  share 
Such  cates,  such  elegance  of  fare  : 
The  only  true  and  real  good 
Of  man  was  never  vermin's  food. 
'Tis  seated  in  th'  immortal  mind ; 
Virtue  distinguishes  mankind. 
And  that ,  as  yet  ne'er  harbour'd  here. 
Mounts  with  the  soul  we  know  not  where. 
So,  good  man  sexton,  since  the  case 
Appears  with  such  a  dubious  face. 
To  neither  I  the  cause  determitie ; 
l''or  diff'rent  tastes  please  diffrent  vermin. 


# 


1^ 


FABLES 

FOR 
THE  FEMALE  SEX^ 

BY  EDWARD  MOORE, 


PREFACE. 


X  HE  following  fables  we  rewritten  at  intervals,  when 
I  foynd  mvseif  in  humour,  and  disengaged  from 
matters  of  greater  moment.  As  tbey  are  the  writings 
of  an  idle  hour,  so  they  are  invaded  for  .the  reading 
of  those,  whose  onJy  business  is  amusement.  My 
hopes  of  f)rofit,  or  applause,  aA'e  not  immoderate; 
nor  have  I  printed  through  necessity,  or  request  of 
friends.  I  have' leave  from  her  Royal  Highness  to  ad- 
dress her,  and  I  claim  the  Fair  for  my  readers.  My 
fears  are  lighter  than  icy  expectations:  I  wrote  to 
please  myself,  and  I  publish  to  please  others;  and 
this  so  universally,  that  I  have  not  wished  for  cor- 
rectness to  rob  the  critick  of  his  censure,  or  my 
friend  of  the  laugh. 

My  intimates  are  few,  and  I  am  not  solicitous  to 
iucrease  them.  I  have  learnt  that  where  the  writer, 
would  please,  the  man  should  be  unknown.  An  au- 
thor is  the  reverse  of  all  other  objects,  and  magni/ie.s 
by  distance,  but  diminishes  by  approach.  His  private 
attachments  must  give  place  to  pnblick  favour;  for 
no  man  can  forgive  his  friend  the  ill-natured  attempt 
of  being  thought  wiser  than  himself. 

To  avoid  therefore  the  misfoitunes  that  may  at- 
tend me  from  auy  accidental  succ^s,  I  think  il  ne- 
cessary to  inform  those  who  know  me  that  I  ha^e 
been  assisted  in  the  follovving  papers  by  the  aiul-.or 
of  Gustavus  Vasa.  Let  the  crime  of  pleasing  be  his. 
whose  talents  as  a  writer,  and  ^^hose  virtues  as  a 
man,  have  rendered  him  a  1 
circle  of  his  acquaintance. 


FABLES 

BY 

EDWARD  MOORE. 


%.'«/%.»^«^».».-«.-».> 


FABLE  I. 

THE   EAGLE   AND   THE  ASSEMBLY  OF  BIRDS. 

To  her  Royal  Highness  the  princess  of  Wales. 

f 

i  HE  morai  lay ,  to  beauty  dne, 
I  write,  fair  excellence ,  to  you  ; 
Wei  pleas'd  to  hope  my  vacant  hours 
Have  been  empioy'd.to  sweeten  yours. 
Truth  under  fictional  impart. 
To  weed  out  folly  from  theheartj 
And  shew  the  paths  that  lead  astray 
The  wand'ring  nymj)h  from  wisdom's  wav, 

I  flatter  none.  The  great  audjgood 
Ar<?  by  their  actions  understood  ; 
Your  monument  if  actions  raise, 
Shall  I  deface  by  idle  praise  ? 
I  echo  not  the  voice  of  fame. 
That  Jivells  delighted  on  your  name; 
Her  friendly  tale,  however  true, 
Were  flaft'ry,  1/  I  told  it  you. 

The-  protid,  the  envious ,  and  the  "Wiin, 
The  jilt,  the  prude,  demand  my  strain^ 
To  these,  detesting  praise,  I  write. 
And  vent,  in  charity,  my  ^pite  :  , 


FABLES 
With  friendly  hand  I  hold  the  glass 
To  all  promiscuous  as  they  pass ; 
Should  folly  there  her  Ukeness  view, 
I  fret  not  that  the  mirror's  true  ; 
If  the  fantastick  form  offend, 
I  made  it  not,  hut  would  amend. 

Virtue,  in  ev'ry  clime  and  age, 
Spurns  at  the  folly-soathing  page, 
While  satire,  that  offends  tlie  ear 
Of  vice  and  passion,  pleases  htr. 

Premising  this,  your  anger  spare, 
And  claim  the  fable  you  who  dare. 

The  birds  in  place,  by  factions  press'd, 
To  Jupiter  their  pray'rs  address'd; 
By  specious  lies  the  state  was  vex'd, 
Their  councils  libellers  perplex'd  ; 
They  begg'd  (  to  stop  seditious  tongues  } 
A  gracious  hearing  of  their  wrongs. 
Jove  grants  their  suit.  The  eagle  sate 
"Decider  of  the  grand  debate.' 

The  pie,  to  trust  and  pow'r  preferr'd, 
Demands  permission  to  be  heard, 
Says  he,  Prolixity  of  }ihras£ 
You  know  I  hate.  This  libel  says, 
a  Some  birds  there  are  who,  prone  to  noise, 
«  Are  hir'd  to  silence  wisdom's  voice, 
«  And,  skill'd  to  chatter  out  the  hour, 
«  Rise  by  their  emptiness  to  pow'r.  >• 
That  this  is  aim'd  direct  at  me, 
No  doubt  you'll  readily  agree  ; 
Yet  well  this  sage  assembly  knows ^ 
By  parts  to  government  I'rose  ; 
My  prudent  counsels  prop  the  state; 
Magpies  were  never  known  to  prate. 

The  kite  rose  up*.  His  honest  h<  art 
In  vitljic's  suff  rings  bore  a'pnrt. 


BY  EDWARD   MOOllF. 
That  there  were  birJs  of  prey  he  knew  ; 
So  far  the  libeller  said  true  ; 
«  Voracious, bold,  to  rapine  prone, 
«  Who  knew  no  int'rest  but  their  ovmi  ; 
«  Who  hov'ring  o'er  the  farmer's  yard,  • 
<t  Nor  pigeon,  chick,  nor  duckUng,  spar'd : 
This  might  be  true  ,  but  if  applied 
To  him,  in  troth,  the  sland'rer  lied. 
Since  iga'raijce  then  might  be  misled, 
Such  things,  he  thought,  were  best  unsaid. 

The  crow  was  vex'd.  As  yester-morn 
He  flew  across  the  new-sown  corn, 
A  screaming  boy  wasset  for  pay, 
He  knew,  to  drive  the  crow.s  away, 
Scandal  had  found  him  out  in  turn, 
And  buzz'd  abroad  that  crows  love  corn. 

The  owl  arose  with  solemn  face,    • 
And  thus  harangu'd  upon  the  case: 
That  magpies  j)rate  it  may  be  true; 
A  kite  may  be  voracious  too; 
Crows  sometimes  deal  in  new-sown  pease  : 
He  libels  not  who  strikes  at  these  ; 
The  slander's  here —  «  But  there  are  birds, 
«  Whose  wisdom  lies  in  looks,  not  words; 
«  Blundrers  vsho  level  in  the  dark, 
«  Aad  always  shoot  beside  the  mark.  » 
He  names  not  me;  but  these  are  hints, 
Which  manifest  at  whom  he  squints ; 
I  were  indeed  that  blundring  fowl, 
To  question  if  he  meant  an  owl. 

Ye  wretches,  hence  !  the  eagle  cries, 
'Tis  conscience,  conscience  that  apphes  ; 
The  virtuous  mind  takes  no  alarm, 
Secur'd  by  innocence  from  harm  ; 
While  guilt,  and  his  associate  fear, 
Are  startled  at  the  passing  air. 


i6o  FABLES 


k'».'«.^%-w-«,'v  -i-l 


^  FABLE  II. 


THE  PANTHER,  THE  HOUSE,  AKD  OTHER  BEASTS. 

J.  H  E  man,  who  sects  to  win  tiie  fair, 
(  So  custom  says  )  must  truth  forbear  ; 
Must  fawu  anil  flatter,  cringe  and  lie, 
Abd  raise  the  goddvss  to  the  sky. 
For  trutli  is  hateful  to  her  car, 
A  rudeness.  v\hich  she  cannot  bear. 
A  rudeness  .'*  Yes.  I  sp'eak  my  thoughts  ; 
For  truth  upbraids  her  >Yith  her  faults. 

How  wretche'd,  Chloc,  then  am  I, 
WIio  love  you ,  and  yet  cannot  he  .' 
And  still,  to  make  you  less  my  friend, 
I  strive  your  Errors  to  amend  .' 
Eut  shall  the  senseless  fop  impart 
The  softest  passion  to  your  heart. 
While  he'  who  tells  you  hone^  truth. 
And  points  to  happiness  your  youth. 
Determines  byhis  care  his  lot, 
And  lives  neglected  and  forgot  ? 

Trust  me,  my  dear  5  with  greater  ease 
Your  taste  for  llalt'ry  I  could  please. 
And  similies  m  each  didlline. 
Like  jtIow-  '  orms  in  the  dark,  should  .'-hine. 
What,  if  I  say  your  lips  disclose  *   ■-• 
The  freshness  of  the  op'ninc  rose  .•* 
Or  that  your  checks  are  beds  ol  flow'rs, 
Fnripen'd  by  refreshing  show'rs.i' 
Yet  certain  as  these  flow'rs  shall  fade, 
'J  ime  cv'rv  beauty  will  in>'ade.  • 


BY  EDWATxD  MOORE.  i  ., 

The  butterfly ,  of  various  hue, 
More  than  the  flow'r  resemhle-s  you  ; 
lair,  fluttring^,  fickle,  busy  thing, 
To  pleasure  ever  on  the  winrj. 
Oayly  coquetting  for  an  hour. 
To  die  and  ne'er  be  thougbt  of  more. 

■V^'ould  you  the  bloom  of  youth  should  last  ? 
'Tis  virtue  that  must  bind  it  fast ; 
An  easy  carriage,  wholly  free 
From  sour  reserve ,  or  levily  ;   •  . 
Good-natur'd  mirth,  an  open  heart. 
And  looks  unsVib'd  in  any  art ; 
Hurii'llty,  enough  to  own 
The  frailties  which  a  friend  raaki^s  known  : 
And  decent  pride,  enough  to  know 
The  worth  that  virtue  can  bestow. 

These  are  the  charms,  which  ne'er  decav, 
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  address  to  you  is  sent  ? 
I'll  spare  the  question,  and  confess 
I'd  praise  ^ou  if  I  lov'd  you  less ; 
But  rail,  be  angry,  or  complain, ' 
I  will  be  rude,  while  you  are  vain. 

Beneath  a  lion-'s  peaceful  reign , 
^Then  beasts  met  friendly  on  the  plain, 
A  panther  of  majestick  port, 
(  The  vainest  female  of  th^  court  ) 
With  spotted  skin,  and  eyes  of  lire, 
Fill'd  ey'ry  bosom  with  desire. 
Where  e'er  she  mov'd,  a  servile  crowd 
Of  fawning  creatures  ci^ng'd  and  bow"d. 
Assemblies  ev'ry  week  she  held 
(  Like  modern  belles  )  with  coxcombs  fiU'd, 

14. 


i62  •  FABLES 

Where  noise,  and  npnsensc,ancl  ijrlmace, 
And  lies, and  scandal,  flird  the  place. 

Behold  the  cfay,  fantaslick  thiug. 
Encircled  by  the  spacious  ring  J 
Low-bo\vin<2f,\vith  important  lobl^. 
As  first  in  rank,  the  monkey  spoke. 
Gad  take  me,  madam'.'  but  I  svsear, 
No  angel  ever  look'd  so  fair: 
Forgive  my  rudeness,  but  I  vow 
You  were  ^ot  quite  divine  till  now. 
Xhose  limbs  !  that  shape  !  ajid  then  those  eyes! 
(),  close  them  ,  or  the  gazea-  die's  .'  — 

Nay,  gentle  png  !  for  goodness  hush , 
I  vow,  and  swear  you  make  me  blush, 
I  shall  he  angry  at  this  rate ; 
'Tis  so  like  flatt'ry,  wh  ch  I  hate.  -=- 

The  fox,  in  deeper  cunning  vcrs'd, 
The  beauties  of  her  mind  rehears'd. 
And  talk'd  of  k.nowledge,  taste,  and  sense, 
To  which  the  fair  have  vast  pretence  ! 
Yet  wtII  he  knew  them  always  vain 
Of  what  they  strive  pot  to  attain. 
And  play'd  so  cunningly  his  jart, 
That  pug  was  rival'd  in  his  art.  • 

The  goat  aVow'd  his  am'rous  flame. 
And  burnt  —  for  what  he  durst  not  name  ; 
Yet  hop'd  a  meeting  in  the  wood  ^ 

Might  make  bis  meaning  understood. 
Half  angry  at  the  bold  address, 
She  frown'd  ;  but  yet  she  must  confess. 
Such  beauties  might  inflame  his  b]of)d; 
But  still  his  phrase  was  somewhat  rude. 

The  hog  her  neatness  much  admir'd  ; 
The  formal  ass  her  sv^if^ness  lir'd ; 
While  all  to  feed  her  folly  sti;ove. 
And  hy  their  praises  shar'd  her  love. 


BY  EDWARD  MOORK.  jdS 

The  horse,  whose  gen'rouWienrt  disdaiu'iJ 

Applause  by  servile  llatt'ry  f^ain'd, 

With  graceful  cotirage  silence  broke, 

And  thus  with  indiguation  spoke  : 

When  flatt'ring  monkeys  fawn  and  prate, 

They  justly  raise  contempt ,  or  hale  ; 

]'"or  merit's  turn'd  to  ridicule, 

Applauded  by  the  grinning  fool. 

The  artful  foK'your  wit  commends, 

To  lure  you  to  his  seliish  ends ; 

From  the  vile  flatt'rer  turn  av\fiy, 

for  knaves  make  friendships  to  betray. 

Dismiss  the  train  of  fops  and  fOols, 

And  learn  to  live  by  wisdom's  rules  ; 

Such  beauties  might  the  liOn  warm, 

Did  not  your  folly  break  the  charm  ; 

For  who  would  coprt  that  lovely  shape, 

To  he  (he  rival  of  an  ape  ? 

He  said  ;  arTd,  snorting  in  cUsdain, 

Spurn'd  at  the  cro^v<i  and  sought  the  plain. 


FABLlE    III. 

THE  NIGHTi::^GA.LE    AND    GLOW-WORM. 

X  HE  prudei^t  nynaph,  whose  cheeks  disclose 
The  lilly  and  the  blushing  rose. 
From  publick  view  her  tfharrys  will  screen. 
And  rarely  in  the  crowd  be  seen  ; 
This  simple  truth  shall  keep  her  wise, 
«  The  fairest  fruits  attract  the  flies  > . 

One  night  a  glow-worm,  proud  and  vain. 
Coatemplatibg  her  i^UtVring  train, 


i'6^  FABXES 

Cried,  Sure  ^eve  never  \^  as  in  nature 
So  elegant,  so  fine  a  creature ! 
All  other  insects,  that  I  gee, 
The  frugal  ant,  industrious  bee, 
Or  silk-worm,  with  contempt  I  view, 
With  all  that  low  raechanick  ci'ew 
Who  servilely  their  lives  employ 
In  bus'ness,  enemy  to  joy.  > 

Mean  vulgar  herd  !  ye  are  mv  scorn; 
For  grandeur  only  I  was  born. 
Or  sure  am  sprung  from  race  divine, 
Andplac'd  on  earth  to  live  and  shine. 
Those  lights,  that  sparkle  so  on  high, 
Are  but  the  glow-worm^  of  the  slej'; 
And  kings  on  earth  their  gems  admire, 
Uecatise  they  imitate  my  fire. 

Slie  spoke.  Attentive  on  a  spray 
A  nightingale  forbore  his  lay ; 
He  saw  the  shining  morsel  near. 
And  flew,  directed  by  the  glare ; 
Awhile  he  gaz'd  with  sober  look. 
And  thus  the  trembling  prey  bespoke  : 

Deluded  fool,  with  pride  elate! 
Know  'tis  thy  beauty  brings  thy  fate  : 
Less  dazzling,  long  thou  might'sthave  laiu 
'Unhi'eded  on  the  velvet  plain  : 
Pnde,  soon  or  late,  degraded  mourns, 
And  beauty  wrecks  whom  she  adorns. 


PA^LE    IV. 

HYMEN  AltD  DEATH. 

Sixteen,  d'ye  say  ?  Nay  then  'tis  time: 
Another  year  clesHoys  your  prime.. 


BY  EDWARD  MOORE.  iGJ 

P.ut  stay.* — The  settlement  1  vf  That's  ma.Ie.  » 
Why  then's  my  simjple  girl  afraid  :' 
Yet  hold  a  moment,  if  you  can, 
And  heedfully  the  fable  scan. 

The  shades  were  fled,  the  mornlnfj  blush'd, 
The  winds  were  in  their  caverns  husli'd. 
When  hymen,  pensive  and  sedate, 
Held  o'er  the  fields  his  musing  fjait. 
Behind  him,  throug-h  the  green  .wood  shade. 
Death's  meagre  form  the  god  survty'd  ; 
Who  quickly,  Avith  gigant;ck  stride. 
Out-went  his  pace  and  join'd  his  side. 
The  chat  on  various  subjects  rau, 
Till  angry  hymen  thus  began. 

Relentless  death,  whose  iron  sway 
Mortals  reluctant  must  obey, 
Still  of  thy  pow'r  shall  I  complain. 
And  thy  too  partial  hand  arraign  ? 
When  Cupid  brings  a  pair  of  ht;arts, 
All  over  stuck  with  equal  darts. 
Thy  cruel  shafts  my  hopes  deride. 
And  cut  the  knot  that  hymen  tied. 

Shall  not  the  bloody,  and  the  bold, 
The  miser  hoarding  up  his  gold, 
The  harlot  reeking  from  the  stew, 
Alone  thy  fell  revenge  pursue  ? 
Rut  must  the  gentle,  and  the  kind, 
Thy  fury,  undistinguished,  find  ? 

The  monarch  calmly  thus  replied  ; 
Weigh  well  the  cause,  ^nd  then  decide. 
That  friend  of  yours  you  lately  nam'd, 
Cupid,  alone  is  to  be  blam'd  ;  • 

Then  let  the  charge  be  [ustly  laid  ; 
That  idle  boy  neglects  his  trade, 
And  hardly  once  in  twenty  tears 
A  couple  to  your  temrlc  bears. 


66         •  FABLES 

The  wretclaes,whom  your,  office  blende, 
Silenus  now,  or  Plutus  sends  ; 
Hence  care,  and  bitterness,  and  strife. 
Are  common  to  the  nuptial  life. 

BeUeve  me  ;  more  than  all  mankind, 
Your.vot'ries  my  compassion  find  ; 
Yet  cruel  am  I  cail'd,  and  base  , 
Who 'seek  the  wretched  to  release  ; 
The  captive  from  his  bonds  to  free      . 

•     Indissoluble  but  for  me. 

'Tis  I  entice  him  to  the  yoke  : 
By  me,  your  crowded  altars  smoke  : 
For  mortals  boldly  dare  the  noose. 
Secure  that  dealh  will  set  them  loose. 


FABLE    V. 

THE   rOET  AND  HIS  PATRON. 


V  V  H  Y,  Coelia,  is  your  spreading  waist 
So  loose,  so  negligently  lac'd? 
Why  must  the  w  rapping  bed  gowji  hide 
Your  snowy  bosOm's  swelling  pride  ? 
Hbw  ill  that  dress  ador-ns  your  head, 
Distain'd,  and  rumpled  from  the  bed  J 
Those  clouds,  tliat  shade  your  blooming  face, 
A  little  Water  might  displace. 
As  nature  cv'ry  morn  bestows 
The  crystal  dew  to  cleanse  the  rose. 
Those  tresses,  as  the  raven  black. 
That  wav'd  in  ringlets  down  your  back, 
llncomb'd,  and  iujur'd  by  neglect, 
Destroy  the  face,  which  once  they  deck'd. 


«Y  EDWARD  MOORE. 

Whence  this  forgetfulness  of  dress  ? 
Pray,  madam,  are  you  married  ? — Yes. 
IN'ay,  then  indeed  the  wonder  ceases. 
No  matter  now  ho^v  loose  your  dress  is  ; 
The  end  is  won,  your  fortunes  made  ; 
Your  sister  now  may  take'  the  trade. 

Alas  I  what  pity  'tis  to  find 
This  fault  in  half  the  female  kind  ! 
From  hence  proceed  aversion,  strife, 
And  all  that  sours  the  wedded  life. 
Beauty  can  only  point  the  dart,        • 
' Tis  neatness  <;uides  it  to  the  heart ; 
Let  neatness  then  and  beauty  strive 
To  keep  a  wav'ring  flame  alive. 

'Tis  harder  far  (you'll  flhd  it  true) 
To  keep  the  conquest,  than  subdue  ;" 
Admit  us  once  behind  the  screen, 
What  is  there  farther  to  he  seen  ? 
A  newer  face  may  raise  the  flame, 
But  ev'ry  woman  is  the  same. 

Then  study  chiefly  to  improve^ 
The  charm  that  lixd  your  husband's  love. 
Weigh  well  his  humour.  W^as  it  dress 
That  gave  your  beauty  pov>'r  to'blcss.'' 
Pursue  it  stdl ;  be  neater  seen  ; 
'Tis  always  frugal  to  be  cleaij ; 
So  shall  you  keep  alive  desire, 
And  time's  swift  wing  shall  fan  the  lac. 

la  garret  high  (  as  stories  say  ) 
A  poet  sung  his  tuneTul  lay  : 
So  soft,  so  smooth'his  verse,  yoii'd  sweac 
Apollo  and  the  Muses  there  ; 
Thro'  all  the  town  his  praises  rung. 
His  sonnets  at  th'e  playhouse  sung  ; 
High  waving  o'er  ids  lab 'ring  head 
The  goddess  want  her  piulous  sprc-«d, 
• 


1 08  FABLES 

And  witli  poetlck  fury  fir'd, 
What  Phoebus  faintly  had  inspir'd. 

A  noble  yowth  of  taste  arid  wit 
Approv'd  the  .sprightly  things  he  writ, 
And  sought  him  in  his  cobweb  dome. 
Discharg'd  his  rent  and  brought  him  home. 

Behold  him  at  the  stately  board, 
Who,  but  the  poet,  and  tny  lord  .' 
Each  day  dehciously  he  dines, 
■  And  greedy  quaffs  the  gen'rous  wines  : 
His  sides  were  plump,  his  skin  was  sleek, 
And  plenty  wanton' d  on  his  cheek  ; 
Astonish'd  at  the  change  so  new, 
Awav  th'  inspiring  goddess  flew. 

Now,  dropt  for  politiclfs  and  news, 
Neglected  lay  the  drooping  muse. 
Unmindful  whence  his  fortune  came, 
He  stifled  the  poetick "flame  ; 
Nor  tale,  nor  sonnet,  for  my  lady, 
Lampoon,  nor  epigram  was  ready. 

With  just  contempt  his  patron  saw,  * 
(  Resolv'd  his  bounty  to  withdraw) 
And  thus,  with  anger  in  his  look, 
The  late  repenting  fool  bespoke. 

Blind  to  the  good  that  courts  tbee  grown, 
Whence  has  the  sun  of  favour  shftne.^ 
Delighted  with  thy  tuneful  art. 
Esteem  was  growing  in  mv  heart, 
But  idly  thou  rrject'st  the  charm. 
That  gave  it  birth,  and  kept  it  warm. 

Unthinjiing  fools  alone  dps})ise 
The  arts  that  taught  them  first  to  rise. 


BY  EDWARD  MOORE.        '    169 


FABLE  VI. 

THE  WOLt,  THE  SHEEP,  XND  THE  LAME. 

iJ  u  T  Y  demands ,  the  parents'  voice     *  * 
Should  sanctify  tlie  daughter's  choice; 
lu  that  is.  due  obedience  shewn  : 
To  choose  belongs  to  her  alone. 

ivlay  honour  seize  his  midiiijzht  hour, 
Who  builds  upon  a  parent's  pov.  'r. 
And  claims,  by  purchase  vile  and  base, 
The  loathiuig  maid  for  his  embrace  I 
Hence  virtue  sickens  ;  and  the  breast, 
"'•Vhere  peace  had  built  her  downy  nest, 
Becomes  the  troubled  seat  of  care, 
And  pines  «1th  anguish  and  despair. 

A  wolf,  rapacious,  rough,  and  bold. 
Whose  nightly  plundets  thinn'd  the  fold, 
Contera plating  his  ill  spent  life. 
And  cloy'd  with  thefts,  would  take  a  wife. 
His  purposeTi-nown,  the  savage  race 
la  num'rous  crowd.s  attend  the  place  ; 
For  why,  a  mighty  wolf  he  was. 
And  held  dominion  in  bis  jaws. 
Her  fav'rite  whelp  each  mother  brouglit, 
And  humbly  Ms  alliance  sought ; 
Rut  cold  by  age.  or  *e!se  too  nice, 
None  found  acceptance  in  his  eyes. 

It  happen'd,  as  at*arly  dawn 
He  solitary  cross'd  the  lawn, 
Stray'd  from  the  fold,  a  sportive  Iamb 
Skipp'd  V,  antonlay  her  (Icccy  d.:.m ; 

I  5 


1 ABLES 
When  Cupicl,  foe  to  man  and  beast, 
Discliarg'd  an  arrow  at  his  breast. 

The  tiin'rous  breed  tlie  robber  knew, 
An4  trembbuc:  o'er  the  meadow  flew. 
Their  nimblest  speed  the  woll'  o'ertook, 
Aud  courteous  thits  the  dam  bespoke  : 

Stay,  fairest !  aud  suspend  your  fear  ; 
Trust  me,  uo  enemy  is  near  : 
TUe»e  jaws,  in  shuighter  oft  imbrir'd. 
At  length  have  kuov\n  enough  of  blood  ; 
Aud  kiudfer  business  brings  mje  now. 
Vanquished  at  beauty's  feet  to  bow. 
You  have  a  daughter  —  Sweet.'  forgive 
A  wolf's  address  —  In  her  1  live  : 
Love  from  her  eyes  like  lightning  came., 
And  set  my  marrow  all  on  flame  ; 
Let  your  consent  conlum  my  choice, 
And  ratify  our  nuptial  joys. 

Me  ample  wealth  and  pow'r  attend. 
Wide  o'er  the  plains  my  realm*  extend  ; 
What  midnight  robber  dare  invade 
The  fold,  if  I  the  guijrd  am  made  ? 
At  home  the  shepherd's  cur  may  sleep, 
While  I  secure  hi.s  master's  sheep. 

Discourse  like  thi^  attcntio*  claim'd  ; " 
Grandeur  the  mother's  breast  infiam'd  ; 
Now  fearless  by  his  side  she  walk'd, 
Of  settlements  and  jointures  talk'd  ; 
Propos'd,  and  doubled  her  demands 
Of  llovv'ry  fields,  and  turnijjplands. 
The  wolf  agrees  :  her  bosom  swells  ; 
To  Miss  Tier  hajjpy  fate  she  tells  ; 
And,  of  the  grand  alliaice  vain, 
Contemns  her  kindred  of  the  plain. 

The  loathing  lamb  with  honour  hears, 
Afid  wearies  out  her  dam  with  pray'rs  : 


R  Y   E  D  ^V  A  Tl  D    M  OGRE. 
But  all  in  vain  ;  mamma  bVst  knew 
"VVkat  unexperienc'cl  girls  should  do  ; 
So,  to  the  neighboring  meadow  carried, 
A  formal  ass  the  couple  married. 

Torn  from  the  tyrant-mother's  side, 
Ths  trembler  goes,  a  Victim-bride  ; 
Reluctant  meets  the  rnde  embrace, 
And  blents  among  the  hov>ling  race. 
With  horrour  oft  her  eyes  behold 
^Ter  murder'd  kindred  of  the  fold  ; 
^  Each  day  a  sister-lamb  is  serv'd. 
And  at  the  gluttonf's  table  carv'd ; 
The  crashing  bones  he  grinds  for  food. 
And  slakes  his  thirst  with  streaming  blood. 

Love,  who  the  cruel  mind  detests, 
And  lodges  but  in  gentle  breasts, 
"Was  now  no  more.  Enjoyment  past, 
The  savage  hunger'd  for  the  feast ; 
But  (  as  we  find  in  human  race, 
A  mask  concerils  the  villain's  face  ) 
.Uistice  must  authorize  the  treat ; 
Till  then  he  long'd,  but  durst  not  eat. 

As  forth  he  walk'd  in  quest  of  prey, 
The  hunters  met  him  on  the  w  ay  ; 
I'ear  wlugs  his  flight ;  the  marsh  he  sought , 
The  snuffing  dogs  are  set  at  fault. 
His  stomach  balk'd,  now  hunger  gnaws  ; 
Hovyling,  he  grinds  his  empty  jaw  s  ; 
Food  must  "be  had,  and  lamb  is  nigh  5 
His  ma\v  invokes  the  fraudlul  lie. 
Is  this  (  dissemb^u'4^  ra^f  ■>  be  cficd  ) 
The  gentle  virtue  of  a  bride  ? 
That,  leage'd  with  man's  destroying  race, 
She  sets  her  husband  for  the  chase  ; 
By  treach'ry  prompts  the  noisy  hound 
To  scent  his  footsteps  on  the  ground  i' 


FABLES. 
Tlioa  trait' re63  vile  '  for  this  thy  blood 
Shall  glut  ray  rage  a-nd  die  the  vsood'l 

So  saying,  ou  the  lamb  he  flies, 
Beneath  his  jaws  the  victim  dies. 


FABL'E    VII. 


TOE    GOOSE   A:MD    THE    SVVA^S. 

X  HATE  the  face,  however  fair, 

That  carries  an  affected  air; . 

The  lisping  tone,  the  shape  constrain'd, 

The  studied  look,  the  passion  feign'd, 

Are  fopperies  which  only  tend 

To  injure  what  they  strive  to  mend. 

With  what  superior  grace  enchants 
The  face  which  nature's  pencil  paints; 
Where  eyes,  unexercis'd  in  art,' 
.Glow  \\ith  the  meaning  of  the  heart; 
Where  freedom,  and  good-humour  sit, 
Aiid  easy  gaiety,  and  wit ! 
Tho'Tgh  perfect  beauty  be  notjlhel-e. 
The  master- '.iues,  the  linish'd  ai'r. 
We  catch  from  ev'ry  look  delight,  . 
And  grow  enamour'd  at  the  sight : 
For  beauty,  though  we  all  approve,- 
Excites  our  wonder  more  than  love ; 
While  the  agreeable  strikes  sure, 
And  gives  the  wounds ^e  cannot  cure. 

Why  then,  my  Araoret,  this  care 
That  forms  you,  in  effect,  less  fair."* 
If  nature  on  your  cheek  bestows 
A  bloom  that  emulates  the  rose, 


BY  EDWARD   MOORE, 

Or  from  some  heav'nly  image  drew 
A  form  Apelles  never  kn<->vv. 
Your  ill- judg'd  aid  vvili  yoa  iiiipart. 
And  spoil  by  raereti-iclous  art? 
Or  liad  you,  nature's  error,  come 
At^rtive  frond  the  mother's  worah. 
Your  forniiruT  care  she  still  rejiH,fs, 
Which  only  heightens  Ifer  defects. 
Wiien  such,  of  glitt'ring  jewels  pi'ond, 
Still  press  the  foremost  in  the  crowd, 
At  ev'ry  puljlick  shew  are  seen, 
With  look  awry,  and  aukward  mien. 
The  gaudy  dress  attracts  the  eye, 
Aud  maguiJles  deformity. 

Nature  may  underdo  her  part, 
But  seldom  wants  the  help  of  art: 
Trust  her,  she  is  your  surest  friend; 
Nor  made  your  form  for  you  to  ra?ud. 

A  goose,  affected,  empty,"  vain. 
The  shrillest  of  the  cackling  train. 
With  proud  and  elevated  crest, 
Precedence  claim'd  above  the  rest. 

Says  she  :  I  laugh  at  human  race. 
Who  say  geese  hobble  in  th'eif  pace  ; 
Look  here  I  —  the  sland'rous  lie  dttttU; 
Not  haughty  man  is  so  erect. 
That  peacock  yonder,  lord !  how  a  ain 
The  creature's  of  his  gaudy  train! 
If  both  were  stript,  I'd  pawrkmy  word, 
A  goose  Avould  be  the  finer  bird. 
Nature,  to  hide  her  own  delects. 
Her  bungled  w  ork  w^ith  linery  ded.s  ; 
Were  geese  set  off  with  half  tha  t  show, 
W^ould  men  atlmire  the  {)ericock  ?  Nc. 

Thus  vaunting  cros^  the  mrad'she  stall..'; ; 
The  cackling  breed  attend  her  w.ilks ; 

I  5, 


4 

FABLES 

The  suu  shot  dovro  liis  ;aoon-tide  beams , 
Tlie  sAvans  were  sporting  iu  the  streams  ; 
Tlielr  snowy  plumes  nnd  stately  j)ride 
Provok'd  her  spleen.  Why  there,  she  cried, 
Agalu,  what  arrogance  we  see  ! 
Those  creatures  I  how  they^mimiCk  me  ? 
Shall  ev'iy  fowl  the  waters  skhn, . 
Because ^ve  geest^are  known  to  swim  I 
Humility  they  soon  shall  learn, 
And  their  own  emptiness  discern. 

So  saying,  with  extended  wings, 
Lightly  upon  the  wave  she  springs ; 
Her  bosom  swells,  she  spreads  her  plumes. 
And  the  swan's  stately  crest  assurnes. 
Contempt  and  mockery  ensu'd. 
And  bursts  of  laughter  shook  the  flood, 

A  swan,  superior  to  the  rest. 
Sprung  forth,  and  thus  the  fool  address'd. 

Conceited  thing,  eJate  with  pride  .' 
Thy  affectation  all  deride  ; 
These  airs  thy  aukv,ardness "impart, 
And  shew  thee  plr^nly  as  thou  art. 
A  mpug  thy  equals  of  the  flock, 
i'Kou  hadst  escap'd  the  publick  mock, 
And ,  as  thy  parts  to  good  cdnduce. 
Been  deera'd  an  honest  hobbling  goose. 

Learn  hence  to  study  w  isdom's  nules ; , 
Ivnow  foppery's  the  pride  of  fools ; 
And  striviug.nature  to  conceal, 
You  only  her  defects  reveal. 


BY   ED  ^V  A  R  t)    INI  O  O  K  K. 


FABLE   VIII. 

THE  LAWYER  A.ND  JUSTICE. 


Xj ovE  !  thou  divinest  good  below, 
Thy  pure  dehghts  few  mortals  know  ; 
Our  rebel  hearts  thy  sway.disown, 
Whtle  tyrant  lust  usurp^  thy  throne. 

The  bounteou*>  god  of  nature  made 
The  sexes  for  each  othei^s  aid, 
Their  mutual  talents  to  employ 
To  lessen  ills  and  heigh  ten. joy. 
To  weaker  woman  he  assign'd 
That  softening  gentlene'ss  of  mind, 
That  can  by  sympathy  impart 
Its  likeness  to  the  roughest  heart  : 
Her  eyes  with  raagick  pow'r  tndn'd. 
To  fire  the  dull,  and  awe  the  rude  ; 
His  rosy  fingers  on  her  face 
Shed  lavish  ev'ry  brooming  grace. 
And  starnp'd  (  perfection  to  display  ^ 
His  mildest  image  on  her  clay. 

Man,  active,  resolute,  and  bold. 
He  fashion'd  in  a  diff'rent  mould : 
With  useful  arts  his  irynd  inform'd, 
His  breast  with  nobler  passions  warm'd  ; 
He  gave  him  knowledrc.  tasl^,  and  scj^c.e. 
And  courage  for  the  fair's  deience  : 
Her  frame,  resistless  to  each  wrong. 
Demands  protection  from  the  strong; 
To  man  she  flies  when  fear  alarms,      , 
And  cfeims  the  temple  of  his  arms. 


FABLES 

By  nature's  author  thus  declar'd 
The  woman's  sov'reign,  and  her  guard, 
Shall  man  by  treach'rous  wiles  invade 
The  weakness  he  was  meant  to  aid? 
While  beauty,  given  to  inspire 
Protecting  love  and  soft  desire. 
Lights  up  a  wild-fire  in  the  heart, 
And  to  its  own  breast  points  the  dart, 
Becomes  the  spoiler's  base  pretence 
To  triumph- over  innocence. 

The  wolf  that  tears  the  tim'rous  sh^ep 
AVas  never  set  the  fold  to  keep  ; 
Nor  was  the  tyger,  or  the  pard, 
Meant  the  benighted  trav'Uer's  guard ; 
But  man,  the  wildest  beast  of  prey,    • 
Wears  friendship's  semblance  to  betray ; 
His  strength  against  the  weak  employs. 
And,  where  he  should  protect,  destroys. 

Past  twelve  o'clock  the  watchman  cried. 
His  brief  the  studious  Lawyer  plied; 
The  all-prevailing  fee  lay  nigh, 
The  earnest  of  to  morrow's  lie. 
Sudden  the  furiqus  winds  arise,  ' 
The  jarring  casement  shatter'd  Hies, 
Tiie  doors  admit  a  hollow  sound, 
And  rattling  from  tlieir  hinges  bound  ; 
When  Justice,  in  a  blaze  of  light , 
Beveal'd  her  radiant  form  to  sight. 

The  wretch  with  thr.lling  horrour  shook, 
Loose  ev'ry  jdint,  and  pale  his  look  ; 
'Xot  having  se<;n  her  in  the  coii/ts, 
Or  found  her  mention'd  m  reporls,  • 
He  ask'd,  with  fall'ring  tongue,  Iv'r  nainc, 
Her  errand  there,  and  whence  she  came? 

S^unly  the  white-rob'd  Shade  replied, 
(  A  crimson  glow  her  visage  died  )  *  ' 


BY  EDWARD    MOORE. 
Can*t  thou  be  doubtful  who  I  am,? 
Is  justice  grown  so  strange  a  name? 
Were  not  your  courts  for  fustict-  rais'd  ? 
'Twas  tliere  of  old  my  altars  blazd. 
My  guardian  thee<tlid  I  elect. 
My  sacred  temple  to  protect. 
That  thou  and  all  thy  venal  tribe 
Should  spurn  the  goddess  for  the  bribe  ? 
Aloud  the  ruin'd  client  ci-ies. 
Justice  has  neither  ears,  nor  eyes  ; 
lu  foul  alliance  with  the  Bar, 
*Gaiust  me  the  jrtdge  denounces  war, 
And  rarely  issues  his  decree, 
But  with  intent  to  baffle  me. 

She  paus'd.  Her  breast  with  fury  burn'd. 
The  trembling  lawyer  thas'return'd. 

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

The  gown-man,  skill'd  in  romish  lies, 
T>v  faith's  false  glass  deludes  our  eyes, 
O'er  conscience  rides  without  coutroul, 
And  robs  the  man  to  save  his  soul, 
•     The  doctor,  with  imporfatit  face, 
By  «ly  design  mistakes  the  case  ; 
Prescribes,  and  spins  out  the  disease. 
To  trick  the  patient  of  his  fees. 

The  soldier,  rough  w  ith  many  a  scar, 
And  red  with  slaughter,  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, 
Must  I  be  belter  than  the  rest', 
And  harbour  justice  in  uiy  breast  ?     .- 


FABLES 
On  one^siJe  only  take  the  fee, 
Content  with  poverty  and  thee  ? 

Thou  blind  to  sense,  and  vile  of  mind .' 
Th'  exasperated  Shade  rejoin'd, 
If  virtue  from  the  world  is  flown,. 
Will  others'  frauds  excuse  thy  own? 
For  sickly  souls  the  priest  was  made  ; 
Physicians  for  the  body's  aid  ; 
The  soldier  guarded  liberty; 
Man,  woman  ;  and  the  lawyer,  nie. 
If  all  are  laithles^  to  their  trust. 
They  leave  not  thee  the  less  unjust* 
Henceforth  your  pleadings  I  disclaim, 
And  bar  the  sanction  of  my  name; 
Within  yoiir  Qourts  it  shall  be  read, 
That  Justice  from  the  law  is  fled. 

She  spoke ;  and  hid  in  shades  her  face, 
'ffill  Hardwick  sooth'd  her  into  grace. 


FABLE    IX. 

THE   FARMER,  THE    SPANIEL,,   AND   THE   CAT. 

VV  H  Y  knits  my  dear  her  angry  brow  ? 
What  rude  of'ence  alarms  you  now? 
I  said  that  Delia  's  fair,  'tis  true. 
But  did  I  say  she  equall'd  you? 
Can't  I  another's  face  commend,. 
Or  to  her  virtues  be  a  friend. 
But  instantly  your  for*  head  low'rs, 
As  if  her  merit  leseen'd  yours  ? 
From  female  envy  never  free,  . 
All  must  be  blind  because  you  see. 


BY   EDWARD   MOORE.  i;,^ 

Survey  tbe  gardens,  fields,  and  hovv'rs, 
The  buds,  the  blossoms,  and  the  (Jow  'rs; 
Then  tell  me  where  the  wood-bind  grows. 
That  vies  in  sweetness  with  ibc  rose  , 
Or  where  the  lilly's  snowy  white. 
That  throws  such  beauties  on  the  sight? 
Yet  fo'ly  is  it  to  declare, 
That  these  are  neither  sweet,  nor  fair. 
The  crystal  shines  with  fainter  ravs, 
Before  the  di'mond's  brighter  blaze: 
And  fops  will  say  the  di'moud  dies 
Before  the  lustre  of  your  eyes  : 
But  I,  who  deal  in  truth,  deny 
That  neither  shine  when  you  are  by. 

When  zepliirs  o'er  the  blossoms  stray. 
And  sweets  along  the  air  convey, 
Sha'n't  I  the  fragrant  breeze  inhale. 
Because  you  breathg  a  sweeter  gale  ?    . 

Sweet  are  the  flow'rs  that  deck  the  field ; 
Sweet  is  the  smell  the  blossoms  yield  ; 
Sweet  is  the  summer  gale  tbat  blows  , 
And  sw  eer,  tho'  sweeter  you,  the  rose. 

Shall  envy  then  torment  your  breast, 
If  you  are  lovelier  than  the  rest? 
For  while  I  give  to  each  her  due, 
By  praising  them  I  flatter  you  ; 
And  praising  most  I  still  declare 
You  fairest,^A\here  the  rest  are  fair. 

As  at  his  board  a  farmer  sate, 
Replenish'd  by  his  homely  treat. 
His  fav'rite  sjjaniel  near  him  stood. 
And  with  his  master  shar'd  the  food ; 
The  crackling  bones  his  jaws  devour'd, 
His  lappiag  tongue  the  trenchers  scour'd  ; 
Till  sated  now  supine  he  lay, 
And  snorVi  the  rising  fumes  away. 


,8o  FABLES 

The  hungry  cat  in  turn  drew  near, 
And  humbly  crav'd  a  serv;int's  share; 
Har  modest  worth  the  master  Icnew, 
And  straight  the  iatt'uing  morsel  threw  : 
Enrag'd  the  snarling  cur  awoke. 
And  thus  with  spiteful  envy  spoke  : 

They  only  claim  a  right  to  eat. 
Who  earn  by  services  their  meal : 
Me  zeal  and  industry  inflame 
To  scour  the  fields,  and  spring  the  game 
Or,  plunging  in  the  "wint'ry  wave, 
For  mau  the  wounded  bird  to  .save. 
With  watchful  diligence  I  keep 
From  pix)whng  wolves  his  fleecy  sbeep  ; 
At  home  his  midnight  hours  secure. 
And  drive  the  robber  from  the  door. 
For  this. his  breast  with  kindness  glows  : 
For  this,  his  hand  the  food  bestows  ; 
And  shall  thy  indolence  impart 
A  warmer  friendship  to  his  heart, 
That  thus  he  robs  me  of  my  due, 
To  pamper  such  vile  thin<rs  as  you  ? 
-    I  own,  with*meekness  pus*  replied, 
Superior  merit  on  your  side; 
Nor  does  my  breast  with  onvy  swell, 
To  find  it  recompenc'd  so  well  ; 
Yet  1,  in  what  my  nature  can, 
Contribute  to  the  good  of  man. 
Whose  claws  destroy  the  pllf'ring  mou*  '. 
Who  drives  the  vermin  from  the  houyc  '.' 
Or,  watchful  for  the  lab'i-;ng*s"wain. 
From  lurking  rats  secure  the  grain!' 
From  hence  if  he  rewards  bestow. 
Why  should  your  heart  with  gallocrflow 
Why  pine  my  hapoijioss  to  see, 
Since  there \i  enough  for  vou  ami  nfe.^ 


BY  EDWARD  MOORE,  i8i 

Thy  words  are  just,  the  farmer  cried, 
And  spurn'd  the  snarler  from  his  side. 


FABLE    X. 


THE   SPIDER   AND  THE   BEE. 


1.  HE  nymph,  who  walks  the  publick  streets, 
And  sets  her  cap  at  all  she  meets, 
May  catch  the  Ibol  who  turns  to  stare; 
But  men  of  sense  avoid  the  snafe. 

As  on  the  margin  of  the  flood, 
With  silken  line,  my  Lydia  stood, 
I  smil'd  to  see  the  pains  you  look, 
To  cover  o'er  the  fraudful  hook. 
Along  the  forest  as  we  stray'd, 
You  saw  the  boy  his  lime-tvvif/s  spread  j 
Guess'd  you  the  reason  of  his  fear.** 
Lest  heedless  we  approach'd  too  near ; 
For  as  behind  the  bush  we  lay, 
The  Jinnet  flutter'd  on  the  spray. 

ilNeeds  there  such  caution  to  delude 
The  scaly  fry  and  feather'd  brood  ? 
And  think  you  with  inferior  art 
To  captivate  the  human  heart  ? 

The  maid,  who  modestly  conceals 
Her  beauties,  while  she  hides,  reveals: 
Give  but  a  glimpse,  and  iancy  draws 
Whate'er  the  grecian  Venus  was. 
From  Eve's  lirsi  ijg-leaf  to  brocade. 
All  dress  was  meant  for  fancy's  aid. 
Which  e"\  ermore  delighted  dwells 
On  what  the  bashful  nvmph  conceals. 

i6 


i32  FABLES 

When  Caelia  struts  in  man's  attire, 
She  shews  too  much  to  raise  desire  ; . 
But  from  the  hoop's  bewitching  round, 
Her  very  shoe  lt#s  pow'r  to  wound. 

The  roving  eye,  the  bosom  bare , 
The  forward  laugh,  the  waaton  air. 
May  catch  the  fop  ;  for  gudgeons  strike 
At  the  bare  hook,, and  bait.,  ahke  ; 
While  salmon  play  regardless  by. 
Till  art,  like  nature,  forms  the  fly. 

Beneath  a  peasant's  homely  thatch, 
A  spider  long  had  held  her  watch  ; 
From  morn  to  night,  with  restless  care, 
She  spun  her  Aveb,  and  wove  her  snare: 
Within  the  limits  of  her  reign, 
I/ay  many  a  heedless  captive  slain. 
Or  flutt'rmg,  struggled  in  the  toils, 
To  burst  the  chains  and  shun  her  wiles. 

A  straying  bee-  that  perch'd  hard  by, 
Beheld  her  with  disdainful  eye, 
And  thus  began :  Mean  thing!  give  o'er, 
And  lay  thy  slender  threads  no  more  ; 
A  thouj^htless  fly,  or  two  at  most. 
Is  all  the  conquest  thou  canst  boast ; 
For  bees  of  sense  thy  arts  evade. 
We  see  so  plain  the  nets  are  laid. 

The  gaudy  tulip  that  displays 
Her  spreading  foliage  to  the  gaze ; 
That  points  her  charms  at  all  she  ser s, 
And  yields  to  ev'ry  wanton  breeze, 
Attracts  not  me;  where  blushing  grows 
Guarded  with  thorns  the  modest  *ose, 
Enamour'd  round  and  round  I  fly. 
Or  on  her  fragrant  bo;;oir.  lie ; 
Reluctant,  she  my  ardour  meets, 
And  bashful  r»;uders  up  her  s\>e<I». 


BY  EDWARD   MOORE.  x83 

To  wiser  hpads  atteution  lend. 
And  learn  this  lesson  froni  a  friend: 
She  who  with  modesty  retires 
Adds  fewel  to  her  lover's  fires, 
While  such  incautious  jilts  as  yon, 
By  folly  your  own  schemes  undo . 


FABLE  XI. 

THE    YOUNG   LION  AND  THE  APE^. 

i.  IS  true,  I  blame  your  lover's  choice, 
Though  flatter'd  by  the  publick  voice  j 
And  peevish  gi'ow  and  sick  to  hear 
His  exclamations,  O  how  fair! 
I  listen  not  to  wild  delights, 
And  transports  of  expected  nij^hts ; 
What  is  to  me  your  hoard  of  charms , 
The  whiteness  of  your  neck  an(larms? 
Needs  there  no  acquisition  more, 
To  keep  contention  from  the  door? 
Yes  i  pass  a  fortnight,  and  you'll- find 
All  beauty  cloys  but  of  the  mind. 

"Sense,  i,iad  good-humour  ever  prove 
The  surest  cords  to  fasten  love. 
Yet,  Phillis,  simplest  of  your  sex, 
Yon  never  tliink  but  to  perplex. 
Coquetting  it  with  ev'ry  ape 
That  strUts  abroad  in  human  shape ; 
Not  that  the  coxcomb  is  your  taste, 
But  that  it  stings  your  lover's  breast; 
To-morrow  you  resign  the  sway, 
Prepar'd  to  honour  and  obey, 


i84  .  FABLES 

The  tyrant-mistress  change  for  life 
To  the  submission  of  a  wife. 

Your  folhes,  if  you  can,  suspend, 
And  !earn  instruction  ft-om  a  friend. 

Reluctant,  hear  the  first  address  ; 
Think  often  ere  you  "answer,  Yes  : 
But  once  resolv'd,  throw  off  disguise. 
And  wear  your  vjshes  in  your  eyes; 
.    With  caution  ev'ry  look  forbear. 
That  might  create  one  jealous  fear, 
A  lovei  's  ripening  hopes  confound. 
Or  give  the  gen'rous  breast  a  wound; 
Contemn  the  girlish  arts  to  tease, 
Nor  use  your  pow'r,  unless  to  please; 
"For  fools  alone  with  rigour  sway, . 
When  soon  or  late  they  must  obey. 

The  king  of  brutes,  in  life's  decline, 
Resolv'd  dominion  to  resign  ; 
The  beasts  were  summon'd  to  appear. 
And  bendbefore  the  royal  heir. 
They  came;  a  day  was  fix'd;  the  crowd 
Before  the^r  future  monarch  bow'd. 

A  dapper  moukey,  })ert  and  vain, 
Stepp'd  forth,  and  thus  address'd  the  tra'u: 
Why  criqge  my  friends  with  slavish  awe, 
Before  this  pageant  king  of  straw  ? 
Shall  we  atilicipate  the  hour. 
And,  ere  we  feel  it,  own  his  pow'r  ? 
The  counsels  of  experience  prize, 
I  know  the  maxims  of  the  wise  j 
Sbbjection  let  us  cast  away. 
And  live  the  mouarchs  of  to-day: 
'Tis  ours  the  vacant  hard  to  spurn, 
And  play  the  tyrant  each  in  turn. 
So  shall  he  right  from  wrong  discern, 
And  mercy  from  oppression  learn ; 


BY   EDWARD    MOORE.  18$ 

At  others'  woes  be  lauglit  to  melt. 
And  loath  the  ills  himfelf  has  ielt. 

}[e  spoke;  his  bosom  swell'd  with  pride. 
The  youthful  lion  thus  replied": 

What  madness  prompts  thee  to  provol^o 
My  wrath,  ahd  ddre  th'  impendinfj  stroke ':* 
Thou  wretched  fool !  can  wrongs  impart 
Compassion  to  the  feeling  heart , 
Or  teach  the  grateful  breast  to  glow, 
The  hand  to  give,  or  eye  to  flow  ? 
Learn'd  in  the  practice  of  their  schools, 
From  women  thou  hast  drawn  thy  i-ules  : 
To  them  return  ;in  such  a  cause 
l^rom  only  such  expect  applause; 
The  partial  sex.1  don't  condemn 
For  liking  those  who  copy  them. 

Would'st  thou  the  gen'rous  lion  bfud  .'' 
By  kindness  bribe  him  to  be  kind  ; 
Good  offices  their  likeness  get. 
And  payment  lessens  no*  the  debt-, 
Wtth  multiplying  hand  he  gives 
The  good  f^'om  others  he  receives ; 
Or  for  the  bad  makes  fair  return. 
And  pays  with  int'rest  scorn  for  soora. 


FABLE  XIT. 

THE   COLT  AND  THE  FjLR&XER . 

X  E  L  t  me ,  Corinna,  if  you  can, 
Why  so  averse,  so  coy  to  man? 
Did  nature,  laVish  of  her  care, 
From  her  best  pattern  form  you  fair, 

i6. 


i86  FABLES 

Tbat  yoa^  ungrateful  to  her  cause, 
Should  mock  her  giits,  and  spurn  her  lavTs ; 
And,  miser -like,  with-hold  that  stoi-e, 
Wliich  by  imparting  blesses  more  ? 

Beauty's  a  gift,  by  heav'n  assign'd 
The  portion  of  the  femalekind  ; 
.For  this  the  yielding  maid  demands 
Protection  at  her  lover's  hands  ; 
And  though  by  wasting  years  it  fade. 
Remembrance  tells  him  once  'twas  paid. 

And  will  you  then  this  wealth  conceal, 
For  age  to  rust ,  or  time  to  steal , 
The  summer  of  your  youth  to  rove, 
A  stranger  to  the  joys  of  love? 
Then,  when  life's  winter  hastens  on. 
And  youth's  fair  hcrifage  is  gone, 
Dow'rleSs  to  court  some  peasant's  arms 
To  guard  your  wither'd  age  fi'om  harms, 
No  gratitude  to  warm  his  breast, 
For  blooming  beauty  once  possess'd  ; 
How  will  you  curse  that  stubborn  juicie.^ 
Which  drove  your  barls.  across  the  tide, 
And,  sailing  before  folly's  wind, 
Left  sense  and  happiness  behind  ? 

Corinna,  lest  these  whims  prevail, 
To  such  as  you  I  wriJe  my  tale. 

A  colt^  for  blood  and  mcltied  speed 
The  choicest  of  the  running  breed. 
Of  youthful  strength  and  beauty  vain, 
Refus'd  subjection  to  the  rein. 
In  vain  the  groom's  officious  sl<ill 
Oppos'd  his  pride,  and  check'd  his  will ; 
In  vain  the  master's  forming  care 
Restrain'd  with  threats,  or  soofh'd  with  pray'r ; 
Of  freedom  proud,  and  scorning  man, 
Wild  o'er  the  spacious  plains  he  ran: 


BY   ED  AVAR  D    MOORI". 

Wheie'er  luxuriant  naluic  spread 
Her  flow'ry  carptit  o'er  the  mead, 
Or  bubbling  streams  soft-gliding  pays 
To  cool  and  freshen  up  "the  grass, 
Disdaining  bounds,  he  cropt  the  blade, 
And  wanton'd  in  the  spoil  he  made. 

In  plenty  thns  the  summer  past, 
Revolving  winter  came  at  last ; 
The  trees  no  more  a  shelter  yield, 
The  verdure  withers  from  the  Held, 
Perpetual  sno.vs  invest  the  ground, 
In  icy  chains  the  streams  are  bound. 
Cold  nipping  winds,  and  rattling  ha;', 
His  lank  unsheltcr'd  sides  assaii. 
As  round  he  cast  his  rueful  eyes, 
He  saw  the  thatch-roof'd  cottage  rise  ; 
The  p»ospect  tquch'd  his  heart  with  cnjar*, 
Audpromis'd  kind  deliv'rance  near. 
A  stable,  erst  his  scorn  and  hate, 
Was  no.v  become  his  wisl\'d  retieat ; 
His  passion  cool,  his  j^ride  forgo^, 
A  farmer's  welcome  yard  he  sought. 

The  master  saw  his  woeful  plight, 
His  limbs  that  totter'd  with  his  weight, 
And  friendly  to  the  stable  l?d. 
And  saw  him  litter'd,  dress'd,  and  fed, 
In  slothful  ease  all  night  hie  lay  ; 
The  servants  rose  at  break  of  day  ; 
The  market  calls  :  along  the  road 
His  back  must  bear  tke  pond'rous  load  ; 
In  vain  he  struggles  or  complains, 
Incessant  blows  reward  his  pains. 
To-morrow  varies  but  his  toil ; 
Chain'd  to  the  plough,  he  breaks  the  soil; 
While  scanty  niKals  at  night  repay 
The  painful  labours  of  the  day. 


88  FABLES 

Subdu'd  by  toil,  with  anj^uisb  rent, 
His  self-upbraidiiigs  found  a  vent. 
Wretcb  that  I  am  .'  he  sighing  said,^ 
By  arrogance  and  folly  led, 
Had  but  my  restive  youth  been  brought 
To  leain  the  lesson  nature  taught, 
Then  had  I,  like  my  sires  of  yore. 
The  prize  from  ev'ry  courser  bore ; 
While  man  bestow'd  rewards  and  praise, 
And  females  crown'd  my  latrer  days. 
Now  lasting  servitude's  my  lot. 
My  birth  contemn'd,  my  speed  forgot, 
Doom'd  am  I  for  my  pride  to  bear 
A  living  death  from  year  to  year. 


..'%^»/%'«/«^  «.>/«. 'Vk/WW 


FABLE  XIIl. 


THE    OWL    AND    THE    NICHTINGAM. 


JL  o  know  the  mistress'  humour  right, 
See  if  her  maids  are  clean  and  tight ; 
If  Betty  vNaits  without  her  stays, 
She  copies  but  her  lady's  ways. 
When  Miss  comes  in  \^ith  boist'rous  shout, 
And  drops  no  curt'sy  going  out, 
Depend  upon't,  mamma  is  one 
Who  reads  or  drinks  too  much  alone. 
If  bottled  beer  her  thirst  asswage. 
She  feels  enthus'astick  rage. 
And  burns  with  ardour  to  inherit 
The  gifts,  and  workings  of  the  spirit. 
If  learning  crack  her  gidd\  brains. 
Wo  remedv  but  death  remains. 


BY   EDWARD   M  O  O  R  K.  ifJy 

Sum  up  the  various  ills  of  life. 

And  all  are  sweet,  to  such  a  wife. 

At  home  superior  wit  she  vaunts. 

And  twits  her  hu^and  with  his  wants  ; 

Her  ragged  offspring  all  around. 

Like  pigs,  are  waU'wing  on  the  ground  ; 

Impatient  ever  of  controul, 

She  knows  no  order  but  of  soul ; 

With  books  her  lilter'd  floor  is  spread, 

Of  nameless  authors  never  read ; 

Foul  linen,  petticoats,  and  lace  • 

Fill  up  the  intermediate  space. 

Abroad,  at  vlsitings,  her  tongue 

Is  never  still,  and  alw ays  wrong ; 

All  meanings  she  defines  away, 

And  stands,  with  truth  and  sense,  at  Lay. 

If  e'er  she  meets  a  gentle  heart, 
Skill 'd  in  the  house-Wife's  useful  art. 

Who  makes  her  family  her  care, 

And  builds  contentmeut's  femple  there. 

She  starts  at  such  mistakes  in  nature. 

And  cries,  Lord  help  us  I  —  what  a  creature  ! 

Melissa,  if  the  moral  strike, 
You'll  find  the  fable  not-unlike. 

An  owl,  puff'd  up  with  self-conceit, 
Lov'd  learning  better  than  his  meat ; 
Old  manuscripts  he  treasur'dup, 
And  rummag'd  ev'ry  grocer's  shop  ; 
At  pastry-cooks  was  knrOAvn  to  ply, 
And  strip,  for  science,  ev'ry  pie. 
For  modern  jooetry  and  wit. 
He  had  read  all  that  Blackmore  writ ; 
So  intimate  with  Curl  was  grov^n. 
His  learned  treasures  Avere  his  own  ; 
To  all  his  authors  had  access. 
And  sometimes  would  correct  the  press. 

0 


FABLES 
la  logick  he  acquir'd  such  knowledge, 
You'd  swear  him  fellow  of  a  college  ; 
Alike  to  ev'ry  art  and  science 
His  daring  genius  hid  d^ance, 
And  swallow'd  wisdom  with  that  haste, 
That  cits  do  custards  al  a  feast.    ■ 

Within  the  shelter  of  a  wood, 
One  ev'uing,  as  he  musing  stood, 
Hard  by,  upon  a  leafy  spray, 
A  nightingi^le  began  his  lay; 
Sudden  he  starts,  with  anger  stung. 
And  screeching  interrupts  the  soug. 

Pert,  busy  thing !  thy  airs  give  o'er; 
And  let  my  contemplation  soar. 
What  is  the  musick  of  ihy  voice, 
But  jarring  dissonance,  and  noise  ? 
Be  wise  :  true  harmony  thou'lt  find 
Not  in  the  throat,  but  in  the  mind  ; 
By  empty  chirping  not  attain'd, 
But  by  laborious  study  gain'd. 
Go, read  the  authors  Pope  explodes, 
lalhom  the  depth  of  Gibber's  odes. 
With  modern  plays  improve  thy  wit, 
Read  ah  the  learning  Henley  writ ; 
And  if  thou  needs  must  sing,  sing  then, 
And  emulate  the  ways  of  men; 
So  shalt  thou  grow  like  me  relin'd, 
And  bring  improvement  to  thy  kind. 

Thou  wretch  .'  the  little  warbler  cried, 
Made  up  of  ignorance  and  plide. 
Ask  all  the  birds,  and  they'll  declare, 
A  greater  blockhead  wings  not  air. 
Read  o'er  thyself,  thy  talents  scan; 
Science  was  only  meant  for  man. 
No  senseless  authors  me  molest, 
1  mind  the  duties  of  iny  nest; 


r>Y  EDWARD   MOORE.  191 

With  careful  wing  protect  my  young, 
And  chear  their  ev'nings  with  a  song  ; 
Make  short  the  weary  trav'ller's  way, 
And  warble  in  the  poet's  lay. 

Thus  foll'wing  nature,  and  her  laws, 
I'rojn  men  and  birds  I  claim  applause; 
While,  nurs'd  in  pedantry  and  sloth. 
An  owl  is  scorn'd  alike  by  both. 


ib«.-»>«.-«/^« 


FABLE   XIV.    . 

THE    SPARROW    AND    THE    DOVE- 


XT  was,  as  learn'd  traditions  sav, 
Upori  an  April's  blithsome  day. 
When  pleasure,  ever  on  the  winp, 
Return'd,  companion  of  the  spring, 
And  chear'd  the  birds  with  am'rous  heal , 
Instructing  little  hearts  to  beat; 
A  sparrow,  froliok,  gay,  and  young. 
Of  bold  address,  and  flippant  tongue. 
Just  left  his  lady  of  a  night. 
Like  him,  to  follow  new  delight. 

The  youth,  of  many  a  conquest  vain, 
Flew  off  to  seek  the  chirping  train  ; 
The  chirping  train  he  quickly  found. 
And  with  a  saucy  ease  bow'd  round. 

For  ev'ry  she  his  bosom  burns, 
And  this,  and  that,  he  wooes  by  turns ; 
And  here  a  sigh,  and  there  a  bi:l. 
And  here — Those  eves,  so  form'd  to  kill  I 
And  now  with  ready  tongue  he  strings, 
Unmeaning,  soft,  resistless  things  ; 


r92  FABLES 

With  vows,  and  dem-mes  sltill'd  to  woo 
As  otlier  pretty  fellows  do. 
Not  that  he  thought  this  short  essay 
A  prologue  needful  to  his  play ; 
No;  trust  me,  says  our  learned  letter, 
Ife  knew  the  virtuous  sex  much  better  ; 
But  these  he  hf  Id  as  specious  arts, 
To  shew  his  own  superior  parts, 
The  form  of  decency  to  shield, 
And  give  a  just  ])retenre  to  yield. 

Thus  finishing  his  courtly  play, 
He  mark'd  thefav'rite  of  a  day; 
With  careless  impudence  drew  near, 
And  whisper'<l  hebrew  in  her  ear; 
A  hint  which,  like  the  Masons'  sign, 
The  conscious  can  alone  divine. 

The  flutt'ring  nymph',  expert  at  feigning, 
C^i^d,  Sii;! — pray  Sir,  explain  your  meaniug- 
'^       Go  prate  to  those  that  may  endure  ye  — 

To  me  this  rudeness  !  —  I'li  assure  ye 

Then  off  she  glided,  like  a  swallow, 

As  saying You  guess  where  to  follow. 

To  such  ask^now  the  party  set, 
'Tis  needless  to  declare  they  met; 
The  parsons's  barn,as  aulhors  mention, 
Confess'd  the  fair  had  apprehension. 
Her  honour  there  secure  from  stain, 
She  held  alM'arlher  trilling  vain, 
No  more  affected  to  be  toy. 
But  rush'd  licentious  on  the  joy. 

Hist,  love  !  —  The  male  comjianion  cried, 
Pietire  a  while,  I  fear  we're  .spied. 
Nor  was  the  caution  vain  ;  he  saw 
A  turtle  rustling  in  ihc  straw. 
While  o'er  her  callow  brood  she  hung. 
And  fondly  thus  address'd  her  young : 


r.Y   EDWARD. MOORE. 

Ye  tender  objects  of  my  care  ! 
Peace^  peace,  ye  little  helpless  pair; 
Anon  he  comes,  yo|(J^entle  sire. 
And  brings  you  all  your  hearts  require. 
For  us,  his  infants,  and  his  bride, 
For  us  ,  with  only  love  to  p^uide,     » 
Our  lord  assumes  an  eagle's  speed, 
And,  like  a  lion,  dares  to  bleed. 
]>for  yet  by  wint'ry  skies  confin'd, 
He  mounts  upon  the  rudest  wind, 
From  danger  tej^the  vital  spoil. 
And  with  afiection  sweetens  toil. 
Ah  ctfase,  too  vent'rous  I  c^ase  to  dare; 
In  thine',  our  dearer  safety  spare  I 
From  liim,  ye  cruel  falcons,  stray,    • 
And  turn,  ye  fowlers,  far  away  ! 

Should  I  survive  to  see  the  day, 
That  tears  me  from  myself  aA  ay. 
That  cancels  all  that  heav'n  could  give, 
The  life  by  which  alone  I  live, 
Alas,  how  more  than  lost  were  I, 
Who,  in  the  thought,  alreaiiy  die  I 

Ye  Pow'rs,  Avhom  men  and  birds  obey. 
Great  ruiei;s  of  your  creatures,  say, 
Why  mourning  conu  s  bv  bliss  couvey'ii, 
And  ev'n  the  sweets  of  love  allay'd».' 
Where  grmvs  enjoyment,  tall,  and  fair, 
Around  it  twines  entangling  care  ;  . 
While  fear  for  what  our  souls  possess 
Enervates  evn-ypow'r  to  bless; 
Yet  friendship  ■orms  the  bliss  above,. 
And,  life.'  what  art  thou,.v>ithout  love."* 

Our  hero,  who  ftad  heard  apart, 
felt  something  moving  in  his  heart. 
But  quickly  Avith  disdain  supprcss"d 
The  virtue  risingr  in  his  bresst : 


'9- 


PARLES 
And  first  he  feign'd  to  laugh  aloud, 
And  next  approaching  smil'd  and  bow'd. 

Madam,  you  ini5i||[tnot  think  ine  rude  ; 
Good  manners  never  can  intrude  ; 
I  vow  I  come  thro'  pure  good  nature  — 
(  Upon  my  soul !  a  charming  creature ! )  * 
Are  these  the  comforts  of «  wife  ?    • 
This  careful,  cloister'd,  moping  life? 
No  doubt,  that  odious  thing,  calTd  duty, 
Is  a  sweet  province  for^a  beauty. 
Thou  pretty  ignoranodfchy  will 
Is  measur'd  to  thy  want  of  skill ; 
That  good  old-fashion«'d  dame,  thy^nother, 
Has  taught  thy  infant  years  no  other. 
The  greatest  ill  in  the  creation, 
Is  sure  the  want  of  education. 

But  think  ye  ?  —  tell  me  without  feiguiiig, 
Have  alltheSe  charms  no  farther  meaning? 
Dame  nature,  if  you  don't  forget  her. 
Might  teach  your  ladyship  much  better. 
For  shame!  reject  this  mean  employment, 
Enter  the  world,  and  taste  cnioyment; 
Where  trtne,  by  circling  bliss,  we  measure  : 
Beauty  was  form'd  alone  for  pleasure; 
Come,  proj^'c  the  blessiug ;  follow  me  : 
Be  wise,  ba  happy,  and  be  free. 

Kind  Sir,  replied  our  nsatron  phaste, 
Vour  zeal  seems  pretty  much  in  haste  j 
I  own,  the  fondness  to  be  bless'd 
Is  a  deep  thirst  in  ev'ry  breast ; 
Of  blessings  too  I  have  my  store 
Yet  quarrel  not,  should  heav'n  give  more  ; 
Then  prove  the  changt  to  be  exped  ent, 
And  think  me.  Sir,  your  most  obedient.  • 

Here  turning,  as  to  one  inferior, 
Our  gallant  spoke,  and  smil'd  superior. 


BY   EDWARD    :M00RE.  igS 

Methinks  to  quit  your  boasted  station 
Requires  a  world  of  hesitation  ; 
\Wiere  brats  and  bonds  are  held  a  bicssir.j;, 
The  case,  I  doubt,  is  past  rodressing. 
Why,  child,  suppose  the  joys  1  luention, 
Were  the  mere  fruits  of  myjnvention, 
Ydh've  cause  suflicient  for  your  carriage, 
In  flying  from  the  curse  of  marriage  ; 
That  sly  decoy,  with  varied  snares, 
That  takes  your  widgeons  in  by  pairs; 
Alike  to  husband,  and  to  wife,    '  •  . 
The  cure  of  love  ,  and  bane  of  life  ; 
The  only  method  of  forecasting. 
To  make  misfortune  ilrrn-  and  lasting  ; 
The  sin,  by  heav'n's  pecuhar  sentence, 
L'npardon'd,  through  a  hfe's  repentance  : 
It  is  the  double  snake,  that  weds 
A  common  tail  to  diff'rent  beads, 
That  lead  the  carcass  still  astray. 
By  dragging  each  a  diff'rent  way. 
Of  all  the  ills  that  may  attent  me. 
From  marriage,  mighty  gods,  defend  tae  I 

Give  me  frank  nature's  wild  demesne, 
And  boundless  tract  of  air  serene,, 
Where  fancy,  ever  wing'd  for  change, 
Delights  to  sport,  delights  to  range  ; 
There,  liberty  .'  to  thee  is  owing 
W'hate'er  of  bhss  is  w orth  bestowing  ;    . 
Delights,  still  varied,  and  divine. 
Sweet  goddess  of  the  hills  )  are  thine. 

What  say  you  now,  you  pretty  pink,  yon  . 
Have  I  for  once  spoke  reason  ,  think  you  ? 
You  take  me  no\y  for  no  romancer  — 
Come,  never  study  for  an  answer  ;* 
Away,  cast  ev'ry  care  behind  ye. 
And  fly  where  joy  alone  shall  find  yc. 


FABLES 

Soft  yet,  return'd  our  female  feuoer, 

A  question  more,  or  so aud  then,  Sir  : 

You've  i-allied  me  with  sense  exceeding^  ' 

With  much  lir»e  wit,  aud  better  breeding; 

But  pray.  Sir,  how  do  you  contrive  it? 

Do  those  of  ygur  world  never  wive  it? 

—  No,  no. —  How  then  ?  -;—  Why,  dare^  tell? 

What  does  the  l)us'uess  full  as  well. 

Do  you  ne'er  love  ?—  An  hour  at  leisure.  — - 

Have  you  no  friendships  ? — Yes,  for  pleasure.- 

iNo  car^  for  little  ones  ?  —  We  get  'em; 

The  rest  the  mothers  mind,  and  let  'em.  -.— 

Thou  wretch  .'  rejoin'd  the  kindling  dove. 
Quite  lost  to  life,  as  lost  to  love ! 
Whene'er  misfortune  comes,  how  just ! 
And  come  misfortune  surely  must ; 
In  the  dread  season  of  dismay,   * 
In  that  your  hour  of  trial,  say. 
Who  then  shall  prop  your  sinking  heart , 
Who  bear  affliction's  weightier  part  ? 

Say,  when  the  black-brow'd  welkin  bends  , 
And  winter's  gloomy  form  impends, 
To  mourning  turns  all  transient  chear. 
And  blasts  the  melancholy  year  ; 
For  times,  at  no  persuasion,  stay ; 
TVor  vice  can  find  perpetual  May; 
Then  where's  that  tongue  by  folly  fed, 
Tlwt  soul  ol  pertness,  whither  fled  ? 
All. shrunk  within  thy  lonely  nest, 
Forlorn,  abandoned,  and  unbless'd  ; 
No'frieuds  by  copdial  bonds  all.ed, 
Shall  seek  thy  cold,' unsocial,  side  ; 
No  chirping*i)r.ittlers  to  delight 
Shall  tutu  the  long-enduring  night ; 
No  bride  her  words  of  balm  impart, 
Aud  warm  thee  at  her  ronslant  heart. 


BY   EDWARD   MOORE.  ly^ 

Freedom,  restrain' cl  by  reason's  force, 

Is  as  the  sun's  unvarying  course, 

Benignly  active,  sweetly  bright, 

Affording  warmth,  affordinglight; 

Bat  torn  from  virtue's  sacred  rules  . 

Becomes  a  comet,  gaz'd  by  fools, 

Foreboding  cares,  and  storms,  and  stri'c, 

And  fraught  with  all  the  plagues  of  life. 
Thou  fool.'  by  union  ev'ry  creature 

Subsists,  through  universal  nature  ; 

And  this,  to  beings  void  of  mind, 

Is  wedlock,  of  a  meaner  kind. 
^      While  womb'd  in  space,  primaeval  clay 

A  yet  unfashion'd  embryo  lay, 

■J^he  source  of.  endless  good  above 

Shot  down  his  spark  of  kindling  love  ;  » 

To-ucli'd  by  the  all-enliv'ning  flame. 

Then  motion  first  exulting  came ; 

Each  atom  sought  its  sep'rate  class , 

Through  many  a  fair,  en«raourd  mass  ; 

Love  cast  the  central  charm  around, 

And  with  eternal  nuptrals  bound. 

Then  forij^  and  order  o'er  Ae  sky 

First  train'd  their  bridal  pomp  on  high  : 

The  sun  display'd  his  orb  to  sight. 

And  burnt  with  hymeneal  light. 

Hence  nature's  virgin-womb  conceiv'd 

'And  with  the  genial  burden  heav'd; 

Forth  came  tiie  oak,  her  first  born  heir, 

And  scal'd  the  breathing  steep  of  air  ; 

Then  infant -stems  of  various  use, 

Imbib'd  her  soft,  maternal  juice  ; 

The  flow'rs,  in  early  bloom  disclos'd  , 

Upon  her  fragrant  bi-east  repos'd; 

Within  hfer  warm  embraces  grew 

A  race  of  endless  form  and  hue  : 


iqS  tables 

Theu  pouiVl  her  lesser  off'spriiipj  round, 
Aatl  foadly  cioalh'd  their  parent  ground. 

Nor  here  alone  the  virtue  reigil-'d. 
By  matter's  cumb'riug  form  detain'd  ; 
But  thence,  sixbliiuing,  and  refih'd, 
Asnir'd,  and  reach'd  its  kindred  mind. 
Canght  in  the  fond,  celestial  fire. 
The  mindperceiv'd  unknown  desire. 
And  now  with  kind  effusion  liow'd,  • 
Aud  now  with  cordial  ardours  glow'd, 
Beheld  the  sympathetick  fair, 
And  lov'd  its  own  resemblance  there  : 
On  all  with  circling  rathance  shone,  "  ■ 
But  cent'ring,  llx'd  on  one  alone  ; 
There  clasp'd  the  hcay'n  appointed  wi^Cy 
And  doubled  ev'ry  joy  of  life. 

Here  ever  blessing,  ever  bJess'd, 
Resides  this  beauty  of  the  hleast. 
As  from. his  palace,  here  the  god 
Still  beams  effulgftnt  bliss-  ftbroad. 
Here  gems  his  own  etei^pal  round, 
•  The  ring,  by  which  llie  woVld  is  bound. 
Here  bids  hisAeat  of  empire  iirqw. 
And  builds  liis  litllchcav'n  belov, . 

The  bridal  partners  tlius-ailicd. 
And  thus  in  sweet  accoulance  tied. 
One  body,  heart  and  spirit  live, 
Eurich'd  h^  ev'ry  joy  ihry  give  ; 
Like  echo,  from  her  vocal  hold, 
Return'd  in  musick  twenty  fold. 
Their  union  firm,  and  unticcay'd, 
Nor  tiiiie  can  shake,  nor  powr  invade. 
But  as'  the  ^tem  and  scion  >laud, 
Ingrafted  by  a  skilful  hand,  • 

They  check  the  tempest's  wint'rV  ragf, 
And  bloom  and  sircjigthcn  into  age. 


BY  EDWARD   MOORE.  799 

A  thousand  amities  unknown,    ^    . 
And  pov\'rs  perceiv'd  by  lovcaJone, 
Endc:.rinj(  looks,  and  chaste  desire, 
'I'an,  and  support  the  mutual  lire, 
Whose  flame,  perpetual  as  relinVJ, 
Is  fed  by  an  immortal  mind. 

Nor  yet  the  nuptial  .sanction  ends, 
Like  Nile  it  opens,  and  descends,  • 
Which,  by  apparent  windings  led, 
We  trace  to  its  celestial  head.  ' 

The  sire,  first  spring^injj  from  above, 
I'ecomes  the  source  of  life  and  love. 
And  gives  his  filial  heir  to  flow. 
In  'bndness  doA\n  on 'sons  below  : 
Thus  roH'd  in  ont!  continued  tide. 
To  time's  extremest  vet»ge  they  glide, 
While  kindred  streams,  on  either  hand, 
Branch  forth  in  blessings  o'er  the  land. 

Thee,  wretch  !  no  lisping  babe  shall  name, 
No  late-returning  brother  claim, 
No  kinsman  on  thy  road  rejoice, 
No  sister  greet  thy  ent'rinr:^  voice, 
With  partial  eyes  no  parents  see. 
And  bless  their  years  restor'd  in  thee. 

In  age  rejected,  or  declined. 
An  alien  ev'n  among  thy  kind,         * 
The  partner  of  thy  scorn'd  embrace. 
Shall  play  the  wanton  in  thy  face, 
Each  spark  unplume  thy  little  pride, 
All  friendship  fly  thy  faithless  side, 
Thy  name  shall  like  thy  carcass  rot. 
In  sickness  spurn' d,  in  death  forgot. 

All-giving  pow'r  !  great  source  of  life  .' 
O  hear  the  parent !  hear  the  wife  I 
That  life  thoii  lendest  from  above, 
Though  little,  make  it  iar'je  by  love  : 


I  A  B  L  i:  s 

()  bill  jiiy  feeling  heart  expand 

To  ev'ry  cUiim,  on  ev'ry  hand ; 

To  those,  from  whom  my  days  I  dre'v, 

To  these,  in  whom  those  days  renew. 

To  all  my  kin,  however  w  ide, 

In  cordial  warmth,  as  blood  allied. 

To  friends,  with  steely  fettei'S  twii^'d, 

And  to  the  cruel  not  unkind  ! 

But  chief,  !he  lord  of  my  desire, 
IMy  life,  myself,  my  soul,  my  sire. 
Friends,  children,  all  that  wish  can  claim. 
Chaste  passion  clasp,  and  rapture  name  ; 
O  spare  him,  spare  him,  graciotis  pow'r  I 
()  give  him  to  ray  latest  hour ! 
Let  me  my  length  of  life  empl6y, 
To  give  my  sole  enjoymerit  joy. 
His  love,  let  mutual  love  excite; 
Turn  all  my  cares  to  his  delight, 
Aild  ev'ry  needless  blessing  vSpare, 
Wherein  my  darling  wants  a  share. 
When  he  with  graceful  action  wooes, 
And  sweetly  bills,  and  fondly  cooes, 
xVh  I  deck  me,  to  his  eyes  alone, 
With  charnjs  attractive  as  his  own,. 
And  in  my  ciri}1iBg  wings  c»ress'd. 
Give  all  the  lover  to  my  breast. 
Then  in  our  chaste,  connubial  bed, 
My  bosom  pillow'd  for  hishead. 
His  eyes  with  blissful  slumbers  close. 
And  watch,  with  me,  my  lord's  repose; 
Your  peace  around  his  tenjples  twine. 
And  love  him,  with  a  love  like  miiie. 


And,  for  I  know  his  gen'rous  11; 


n»c, 


Beyond  whate'er  my  sex  can  claim. 
Me  too  to  your  protection  take. 
And  spare  ine  for  mv  husbands  sake. 


BY  EDWARD   MOORE.  2( 

Let  one  unruffled,  calm  deligUt, 
The  loving,  and  belov'd  unite  ; 
One  pure  desire  our  bosoms  warm, 
One  will  direct,  one  v.ish  inform  ; 
Through  life  one  mutual  aid  sustain, 
In  death,  one  peaceful  grave  contain. 

While  swelhng  with  the  darling  theme, 
Her  accents  pour'd  an  endless  stream  , 
The  well-known  wings  a.sound  impart, 
TW&t  reach'd  her  ear,  and  touch'd  her  heart ; 
Quick  dropp'd  the  musick  of  her  tongue,       * 
And  forth,  with  eager  joy,  she  sprung. 
As  swift  her  ent'ring  consort  flew. 
And  plura'd,  and  kindled  at  the  view  ; 
Their  wings,  their  souls  embracing  meet, 
Their  hearts  with  answ'ring  measure  beat ; 
Half  lost  in  sacred  sweets,  and  bless'd 
VYith  raptures  felt,  but  ne'er  express'd. 

Straight  to  her  humble  roof  she  led 
The  partner  of  her  spotless  bed  ; 
Her  young,  a  flult'ring  pair,  arise, 
Their  welcome  sparkling  in  their  eyes  ; 
Transported,  to  their  sire  they  bound. 
And  hang  with  speechless  action  round. 
In  pleasure  wrapt  the  parents  stand, 
And  see  their  little  wings  expand  ; 
The  sire,  his  life-sustaining  prize         . 
To  each  expecting  bill  applies, 
There  fondly  pours  the  w beaten  spoil. 
With  transport  giv'n,  tho'  won  with  toi^ ; 
While, ail  collected  at  the  sight. 
And  silent  through  supreme  delight. 
The  fair  high  heav'n  cA'  bliss  beguiles. 
And  on  her  lord,  and  infants  smiles. 

The  sparrow,  whose  attention  hung 
Upon  the  dove'5  enchanting  tongue, 


•  FABLES 

Of  all  his  little  $lij>hts  disarm'd. 
And  from  himself,  hy  a  ii  tue,  chiriu'd, 
When  now  he  saw,  what  only  seem'd, 
A  fact,  so  late  a  fable  deem'd, 
His  soul  to  envy  he  resign'd, 
His  hours  of  folly  to  the  wind,^ 
In  secret  Avish'd  a  turtle  too, 
And  sighing'to  himself  withdrew. 


FABLE   XV. 

THE    FEMALE    SEDUCERS. 


J.  I  s  said  of  widow,  maid,  and  wife, 
That  honour  is  a  woman's  life. 
Unhappy  sex !  who  only  claim 
A  Leiny,  in  the  breath  of  fame. 
Which  tainted,  not  the  quick'ning  gales 
That  sweep  Sahara's  spicy  vdles, 
IMor  al"l  the  healing  sweets  restore, 
That  breathe  along  Arabia's  shore. 

The  trav'lcr .  it  he  chance  to  stray, 
May  turn  uucensur'd  to  his  way  ; 
Polluted  streams  again  are  pure, 
And  deepest  wounds  admit  a  cure ; 
But  woman  no  redemption  knows, 
The  wounds  ol  honour  never  close. 

Tho'  distant  ev'ry  hand  to  guide, 
Nor  skiil'd  on  life's  tempestuous  tide, 
If  once  her  feeble  bark  recede. 
Or  deviate  from  the  course  decreed, 
In  vain  she  seeks  the  friendless  shore, 
Her  swifter  fol]\  flies  before : 


I'.Y  EDWAIVD    MOORE.  20 J 

TJ1&  circling  ports  against  her  close, 
Aud  shut  the  wancrrerJlVom  repose  ; 
'Till,  by  conflicting  waves  oppress'd, 
Her  found'ring  pinnace  sinks  to  rest. 

Are  there  no  off  rings  to  atone    « 
I'or  but  a  single  error  ? —  None. 
Tho"  woman  is  avow'd,  of  ©Id, 
No  daughter  of  celestial  mould. 
Her  temp'ring  not  without  ailaV,   . 
And  forra'd  but  of  the  finer  clay. 
We  challenge  from  the  mortal  dame 
The  strength  angehck  natures  claim  ; 
TS'ay  more  ;  for  sacred  stories  tell, 
That  ev'n  immortal  angels  fell. 

Whatever  lills  the  teeming  sphere 
Of  humid  earth,  and  ambient  air, 
With  varying  elements  en^lu'd, 
W:js  form'd  to  fall,  aud  rise  renew'd. 

The  stars  no  fix'd  duration  knovv, 
Wide  oceans  ebb,  again  to  How, 
The  moon  replef  es  her  waining  face, 
All-beauteous,  from  her  late  disgrace, 
And  suns,  that  fnouru  ap})roachiug  night, 
Refulgent  rise  with  new-born  light. 

In  vain  may  death  and  lime  siibdue, 
While  nature  mints  her  race  ane^v, 
And  holds  some  vital  spark  a^ai  t. 
Like  virtuie,  hid  in  ev'ry  htart; 
'Tis  hence  reviving  warmlh  is  seen, 
To  cloath  a  naked  Avorld  in  green . 
No  longer  barr'd  by  vsinter's  cold, 
Again  the  gates  of  life  unfold  ;    • 
Again  each  insect  tries  his  v.ing, 
A^^d  lifts  fresh  pinions  ou*the  spring ; 
Again  from  ev'ry  iate«5t  root 
The  bladed  stem,  auJ  tendiil  shoot : 


2o4  FABLES 

Exiialinig  incense  to  the  skies, 
Agaiu  to  perish,  ajad  to  rise. 

And  must  weak  woman  then  disown 
The  change,  to  which  a  world  is  prone? 
In  one  meridian  hrightness  shine, 
And  ne'er  like  ev'niug  snns  decline? 
Piesolv'd  and  liim  alone  ?  —  Is  this 
What  we  demand  of  woman  ? —  Yes. 

Rut  should  the  spark  of  vestal  lilt, 
In  some  unguarded  hour 'expire.  • 
Or  should  the  nightly  thief  invade 
Mesperia's  chaste  and.sacred  shade. 
Of  all  the  blooming  s])oil  possess'd, 
The  dragon  honour  charm'd  to  rest, 
Shall  virtufj's  flame  no  more  return  ? 
No  more  wdtli.  virgin  splenr>or  burn? 
No  more  the  ravag'd  garden  blow 
With  spring's  succeeding  blossom? — No. 
Pity  may  mourn,  but  nort  restqre; 
And  woman  falls,  to  rise  no  more. 

Within  this  sublunary  sphere, 
A  countfy  lies  —  no  matter  where ; 
The  clime  may  readily  be  found 
By  all  who  tread  poet ick  ground, 
A  stream,  cail'd  life,  across  it  glides. 
And  equally  the  laud  divides ; 
And  hcre,of  Yicc-the  prov  nee  lies. 
And  there,  the  hills  of  Yirtue  rise. 

Upon  a  mountain's  airy  stand. 
Whose  summit  look'd  to  either  land, 
An  ancient  pair  their  dwelling  chose. 
As  wrllrfor  prosjicct  as  repose ; 
For  mutual  faith  they  long  were  fam'd, 
And  Teuip'rance,  and  P».eli»'ion,naai'(J. 

A  num'rous  pro:,'eny  divino 
Confess'd  the  honours  of  their  Hue; 


r.Y   EDWARD  MOORE. 
Eut  in  a  little  daughter  fair 
Was  ceuter'd  more  than  half  their  care  ; 
I-'or  heav'n,  to  gratulate  her  birth, 
Gave  signs  of  futare  joy  to  earth  ; 
White  was  the  robe  this  infant  wore, 
And  Chastity  the  name  she  bore. 

As  now  the  maid  in  stature  grew, 
(  A  flow'r  just  op'ning  lo  fhe  view  ) 
Oft  thro'  her  native  lawns  she  stray 'd, 
And  wrestling  with  the  lambkins  play'd  ; 
Her  looks  diffusive  sweets  bequeath'd, 
The  breeze  grew  purer  as  she  brealh'd, 
The  morn  her  radiant  blush  assum'd. 
The  spring  w  ith  earlier  fragance  bloom 'd, 
And  nature  yearly  took  delight, 
Like  her,  to  4i'ess  the  world  in  white. 

But  when  her  rising  form  was  seen 
To  reach  the  crisis  of  lifteeu, 
Her  parents  up  the  mountain's  head, 
With  anxious  step  their  darling  led  ; 
By  turns  they  snatch'd  her  to  their  breast, 
And  thus  the  fears  of  age  express'd  ; 

O  !  joyful  cause  of  manj  a  care  .' 
O  !  daughter  too  divinely  fair  ! 
Yon  world,  on  this  important  day, 
Demands  thee  to  a  d-ini;'rous  way; 
A  painful  journey,.aIl  must  go, 
Whose  doubtful  period  none  can  know  ; 
AVhose  due  direction  who  can  iind,  , 
Where  reasons  mute,  and  sense  Is  blind  ? 
Ah,  what  unequal  leaders  these, 
Thro'  such  a  wide,  perplexing  maze  .' 
Then  mark  the  warnings  of  the  wise, 
And  learn  what  love,  and  years  advise. 

Far  to  the  right  thy  prosr^ct  bend , 
Where  yonder  to»^'ring  hills  ascend; 

I  8 


2o6  FABLES 

Xo,  there  tlie  arduous  paths  in  view, 
Which  Virtue,  and  her  sons  pursue  ; 
With  toil  o'er  less'ning  earth  they  rise, 
And  gain,  and  gain  upcfti  the  skies. 
Narrow's  the  way  her  childi'en  tread. 
No  walk  for  pleasure  smoothly  s^iread. 
But  rough,  and  difficult,  and  steep, 
Painful  to  climb,  and  hard  to  keep. 

Fruits  immature  those  lands  dispense , 
A  food  indelicate  to  sense. 
Of  taste  unpleasant ;  yet  from  those 
Pure  health  with  chearful  vigour  flows. 
And  strength,  unfeeling  of  decaV, 
Throughout  the  long,  labori.Dus  way. 

Hence,  as  they  scale  that  heav'nly  road, 
Each  limb  is  hghten'd  of  its  load  ; 
From  earth  relining  still  they  go. 
And  leave  the  mortal  weight  below; 
Then  spreads  the  strait,  the  doubtful  clears, 
And  smooth  the  rugged  j)alh  appears ; 
For  custom  turns  fatigue  to  ease. 
And,  taught  by  virtue,  pain  can  please. 

At  length ,  the  toilsome  jonrney  o'er , 
And  near  the  bright,  celestial  shore, 
A  gulph,  black,  fearful,  and  profound, 
Appears,  of  either  world  the  bound,  . 
.Thro'  darkness,  leading  up  to  light ; 
Sense  backwards  shrinks,  and  shuns  the  sight : 
For  there  the  transitory  train. 
Of  time,  and  form,  and  care,  and  pain. 
And  matter's  gross  incumb'ring  mass, 
Man's  late  associates,  cannot  pass  ; 
But  sinking,  quit  th'  luunorlal  charge, 
And  leave  the  woud'riug  soul  at  large ; 
Lightly  she  vfings  her  obvious  way, 
And  mingles  with  eternal  day. 


BY  EDWARD    MOORE.  507 

Thither,  O  thither  wing  thy  speed, 
Tho'  pleasure  charm,  or  pain  impede; 
To  such  th'  all-bounteous  Povv'r  has  giv'n, 
For  present  earth,  a  future  heav'n  ;  . 
For  trivial  loss,  unmeasur'd  gain  ; 
And  endless  bliss,  for  transient  pain. 

Then  fear,  ah!  fear  to  turn  thy  sight, 
Where  yonder  flow'ry  fields  invite  ; 
Wide  on  the  left  the  path-way  bends. 
And  with  pernicious  ease  descends  ; 
There  sweet  to  sense,  and  fair  to  show, 
New-planted  Edens  seem  to  blow, 
Trees  that  delicious  poison  bear, 
Kor  death  is  vegetable  there. 

Hence  is  the  frame  of  health  unbrac'd, 
Each  sinew  slack'ning  at  the  taste, 
The  soul  to  passion  yields  her  throne, 
And  sees  w^ith  organs  not  her  own  : 
While,  like  the  slumb'rcr  in  the  night, 
Pleas'd  with  the  shadowy  dream  of  light, 
Before  her  alienated  eyes. 
The  scenes  of  fairy -land  arise  ; 
The  puppet  world's  amusing  show. 
Dipt  in  the  gayly  colour'd  bow, 
Sceptres,  and  wreaths,  and  ghtt'ring  things, 
The  toys  of  infants,  and  of  kings. 
That  tempt,  along  the  baneful  pkiin., 
The  idly  wise,  and  lightly  vain. 
Till  verging  on  the  gulphy  shore. 
Sudden  they  sink,  and  rise  no  more. 

But  list  to  what  the  fates  declare  ; 
Tho'  thou  art  woman,  frail  as  fair. 
If  once  thy  sliding  foot  should  stray, 
Once  quit  yon  heav'n-appointed  way. 
For  thee,  lost  n>aid,  for  thee  alone, 
Nor  pray'rs  shall  plead,  nor  tear.s  atoue  ; 


!o8  FABLES 

F«.eproach,  scorn,  infamy,  and  hate, 
On  thy  returning  steps  shall  wait, 
Thy  form  be  loath'd  by  ev'ry  eye,  • 
And  ev'ry  foot  thy  presence  fly. 

Thus  arm'd  v/iih  words  of  potent  sound, 
Like  giiardian-aaijels  plac'd  around, 
A  charm,  by  Truth  divinely  cast. 
Forward  our  young  adveut'rer  pass'd^ 
Forth  from  her  sacred  eye-lids  sent. 
Like  morn,  fore-running  radiance  went, 
While  Honour,  hand-maid  late  assign'd, 
^     Upheld  her  lucid  train  behind. 

Awe-struck  the  much  admiring  crowd 
Before  the  virgin  vision  bow'd, 
Gaz'd  with  an  ever  new  delight, 
And  caught  fresh  virtue  at  the  sight ; 
For  not  of  earth's  unequal  frame 
They  deem  the  heav'n -compounded  dame; 
If  matter,  sure  the  most  refin'd, 
High  wrought,  and  temper'd  into  mind,' 
Some  darling  daughter  of  the  day, 
And  bodied  by  her  native  ray. 

Where'er  she  passes,  thousanrts  bend. 
And  thousands,  where  she  moves,  attend ; 
Her  ways  observant  eyes  confess, 
Her  steps  pursuing  praises  bless  ; 
While  to  fhe  elevated  maid 
Oblations,  as  to  heav'n,  are  paid. 

'Twas  on  an  ever  blithsome  day, 
The  jovFal  birth  cff  rosy  May, 
When  gonial  warmth,  no  more  suppressed, 
New  ijielts  the  frost  in  ev'ry  breast. 
The  cheek  with  secret-flushing  dies; 
And  loolis  kind  things  from  chastest  eyes; 
The  sun  with  healthier  visage  gl6ws, 
Aside  hi«  clouded  kerchief  throws, 


i 


BY  EDWARD   MOORE. 

And  dances  up  tli'  etherial  plain, 
Where  late  he  us'il  to  climb  with  pairs. 
While  nature,  as  from  bonds  set  free. 
Springs  out,  and  gives  a  loose  to  glee. 

And  now  for  momentary  rest. 
The  nymph  her  travell'd  step  repress'*], 
Just  turn'd  to  vievv  the  stage  atlain'd. 
And  gloried  in  the  height  she  gain'd.* 

Out-stretch' d  before  her  wide  survey, 
The  realms  of  sweet  perdition  lay, 
And  pity  touch'd  her  soul  with  woe, 
To  see  a  world  so  lost  below ; 
Wheji  straight  the  breeze  began  to  breatht; 
Airs  gently  wafted  from  beneath,    ^r 
That  bore  commissiou'd  witchcraft  thence. 
And  reach'd  her  sympathy  of  sense; 
No  sounds  of  discord,  that  disclose 
A  people  sunk  and  lost  in  woes. 
But  as  of  present- goodpossess'd. 
The  very  triumph  of  the  bless'd. 
The  maid  in  wrapt  attention liung, 
While  thus  approachinjjr  sireus  sung  : 
Hither,  fairest,  hither  haste. 

Brightest  beauty,  come  and  taste 

What  the  pow'rs  of  bliss  unfold,  .^ 

Joys  too  mighty  to  be  told  ; 

Taste  what  exlasies  they  give  ; 

Dying  raptures  taste  and  live, 
in  thy  lap,  disdaining  measure. 

Nature  empties  all  her  treasure, 

Soft  desires  that  sweetly  languish, 

luerce  delights  that  rise  to  anguish; 

Fairest,  dost  thou  yet  delay? 

Brightest  beauty,  come  away. 

List  not,  when  the  froward  chide, 

Sons  of  pedantry  and  pride, 

18. 


Snarlers,  to  \\hose  feeble  sense 

ApriFs  srtiishine  is  offence  ; 

Age  and  ei.vy  will  advise 

Ev'n  against  ihe  joy  tliey  prize. 
Come,  in  pleasuie'.s  balmy  bowl, 

S!ake  the  thirstings  of  thy  soul, 

Till  thy  raptur'd  pow'rs  are  fainting 

WitH  enjoyment  past  the  painting ; 

Fairest,  dost  thou  yet  delay  ? 

Brightest  beauty,  come  away. 
So  sung  the  sirens,  as  of  yore, 
Upon  the  false  Ausonian  shove;* 
And  O!  for  that  preventing  chain. 
That  bojind  Ulysses  on  the  main. 
That  so  our  fair  one  might  wi^hstaud 
The  covert  ruin,  now  at  hand. 

The  song  her  charm'd  attention  drew. 
When  now  the  icaipters  stood  in  view  ; 
Curiosity,  with  prying,  eyes. 
And  hands  of  bn-sy,  bold  emprise  ; 
Like  Hermes,  feather'd  were  her  feet. 
And,  lik*  fore-running  fancy,  fleet. 
By  search  untaught,  by  toil  untir'd, 
lo  novelty  she  still  aspir'tl, 
T|«;eless  of  ev'ry  good  possess'd. 
And  but  in  expectation  blcss'd. 

With  her  associate  Pieaiurc  came, 
Gay  Pleasure,  frolick-loving  dame. 
Her  mien  all  swimming  in  delight. 
Her  beauties  half  reveal'd  to.sight , 
Loose  flow'd  her  garments  from  the'gromiri. 
And  caught  the  kissing  winds  around. 
As  erst  Medusa's  looks  were  known 
To  turn  beholders  into  stone, 
A  dire  t^eversion  here  they  felt, 
And  in  the  eye  of  Pleasure  melt. 


BY  EDWARD   MOORE.  ^ 

Her  glance  with  sweet  persuasion  ch|pa'<T, 
Unnerv'd  the  strong,  the  sietlM  disarm'cl ; 
No  safety  ev'n  the  Hying  Iind, 
Who,  vent'rous,  look  but  once  behind. 
Thus  was  the  much  admiring  maid. 
While  distant,  more  thanjialf  bctray'd. 
With  smiles,  and  adulation  bland. 
They  join'd  her  side,  and  seiz'd  her  hand; 
Their  touch  envenom'd  sweets  instili'd. 
Her  frame  with  new  pulsations  thrill'd ; 
While  half  consenting,  half  denying. 
Reluctant  now,  and  now  complying. 
Amidst  a  war  of  hopes,  and  fears, 
( )f  irembllng  wishes,  smiling  tears, 
Still  down,  and  down,  the  winning  pair 
Oompeii'd  the  struggling,  yielding  fair. 
As  when  soiue  stately  vessel,  boxiud 
To  blest  Arabia's  distant  ground, 
Borne  from  her  courses,  haply  lights 
Where  Barca's  flow'ry  clime  invites, 
Conceal'd  around  whose  treach'rous  land 
Lurk  the  dire  rock  and  dang'rous  sand; 
The  pilot  w  arns  with  sail  and  oar 
To  shun  the  much  suspected  shore, 
In  vain;  the  tide,  too  subtly  strong, 
Still  bears  the  wrestling  bark  along, 
'Till  found'ring,  she  resigns  to  fate. 
And  sinks,  o'erwhelra'd,  with  all  her  fre.'ght. 
So,  baffling  ev'ry  bar  to  sm. 
And  heav'n's  own  pilot  plac'd  williiu, 
Along  the  devious  smooth  descent. 
With  pow'rs  increasing  as  they  went,  , 
The  dames,  accustom'd  to  subdue. 
As  with  a  rapid  current  drew. 
And  o'er  the  fatal  bounds  convey 'd 
The  lost,  the  long  reluctant  maid. 


F  A  E  L  E  S 

Here  stop,  ye  fair  ones,  and  beware, 
Nor  send  your  fond  afiections  tliere ; 
Yet,  yet  your  darling,  now  deplor'd. 
May  turn,  to  you,  and  heav'u,  restor'd  ; 
Till  then,  witb.weeping  Honour  v\ait, 
The  servant  of  her  heiter  fate, 
With  Honour, left  upon  the  shore, 
Her  friend,  and  handipaid,  now  no  ii^ore: 
iNor,  with  the  guilty  worhl,  upbi'aid 
The  fortunes  of  a  wretch  betray'd  ; 
Rut  o'er  her  failing  cast  a  veil, 
Keniemb'iing  you  yourselves  are  frail. 

And  now,  from  all-enquiring  light. 
Fast  fled  the  conscious  shades  of  night ; 
The  damsel,  from. a  short  repose, 
Confounded  at  her  pli^;ht,  arose. 

As  when,  with  slumb'rous^weight  oppressed, 
Some  wealthy  miser  sinks  to  rest. 
Where  felons  eye  the  glitt'ring  prey, 
And  steal  his  hoard  of  joys  away  ; 
He,  borne  where  golden  Indus  streams, 
Of  pearl,  and  quarried  di'n;oud  dreams. 
Like  Midas,  turns  the  glebe  to  ore, 
And  stands  all  wrapt  amidst  his  si  ore, 
But  wakcHs,  naked,  and  tlespoird 
Of  that,  for  which  his  years  had  tpil'd.   . 

So  far'd  the  nymph,  her  treasure  flown, 
And  tttrn'd,  like  ISiobe,  to  stone. 
Within,  without,"  obscure,  and  void. 
She  felt  all  ravag'd,  all  destrOy'd. 
And  ,  O  thou  curs'd,  insidious  coast! 
Are  these  the  blessings  thou  canst  boast  ? 
These,  Virtue  !  these  the  joys  they  iiuil, 
Who  leave  thy  heav'n-topt  hills  behind.^ 
Shade  me,  ye  pines ;  ye  caverns,  hide  j 
Ye  mountains,  cover  me,  she  cried! 


BY   EDWARD   MOORE.  2i3 

Her  trumpet  Slander  rais'd  on  higb, 

And  told  the  tidings  to  the  sky; 

Contempt  discharg'd  a  living  dart, 

A  side-long  viper  to  her  heart ; 

Reproach  breath'd  poisons  o'er  her  face, 

And  soil'd,  and  blasted  e.v'ry  grace  ; 

Officious  Shame,  her  handmaid  new, 

Still  tura'd  the  mirror  to  her  view, 

VYhile  those  in  crimes  the  deepest  died, 

Approach'd  to  whiten  at  her  side  ; 

And  ev'ry  lewd,  insulting  dame 

Upon  her  folly  rose  to  fame. 

What  should  she  do?  Attempt  once  more 
To  gain  the  late-deserted  shore  ? 
So  trnstin«,  back  the  Mourner  flew, 
As  fast  the  train  of  hends  pursue. 

Again  the  farther  shore's  attain'd, 
Again  the  lanJof  Yirtue  gain'd; 
But  echo  gathers  in  the  wind. 
And  shews  her  instant  foes  behind. 
Amaz'd,  with  headlong  speed  she  tends 
W^here  late  she  left  an  host  of  friends ; 
Alas  .'  those  shrinking  frieuds  decline. 
Nor  longer  own  that  form  divine  ; 
With  fear  they  mark  the  foU'wing  cry, 
And  from  the  lonely  trembler  fly, 
Or  backward  drive  her  on  the  coast. 
Where  peace  was  wreck'd,  and  honour  lost. 
From  earth  thus  hoping  aid  in  vain. 
To  h^av'n  not  daring  to  complain,. 
No  truce  by  hostile  clamour  giv'n, 
And  from  the  face  of  friendship  driv'n, 
The  nymph  sunk  prostrate  on  the  ground, 
With  all  her  weight  of  woes  around. 

Enthron'd  witliin  a  circling  sky, 
Upon  a  mount,  o'er  mouutaius  high. 


214  FABLES 

All  radiant  sate,  as  in  a  shrine, 
"Virliie,  first  effluence  divine; 
Far,  far  above  the  scenes  of  v\oe, 
That  shut  this  cloud-wrapt  world  below: 
Superior  goddess,  essence  bright, 
Beauty  of  uncreated  light. 
Whom  should  mortality  survey, 
As  doom'd  upoa  a  certain  day. 
The  breath  of  frailty  must  expire, 
The  world  dissolve  in  living  lire. 
The  ^ems  of  heav'xi  and  solar  flame 
Be  queuch'd  by  her  eternal  beam, 
And  nature,  quick'ning  in  her  eye, 
To  rise  a  new-born  phoenix,  die. 

Hence,  unreveal'd  to  mortal  view, 
A  veil  around  her  form  she  threw, 
Whicli  three  sad  sisters  of  the  shade, 
Pain,  Care,  and  Melancholy  made. 
Thro'  this  her  all-enquiring  eye, 
Attentive  from  her  station  high. 
Beheld,  abandon'd  to  despair. 
The  ruins  of  her  fav'rite  fair; 
And  with  a  voice,  whose  awful  sound 
Appal'd  the  guilty  \>orld  around. 
Bid  the  tumultuous  winds  be  still, 
To  numl)ers  bow'd  each  list'ning  hill, 
.TJncurl'd  the  surging  of  the  main. 
And  smooth'd  the  thorny  bed  of  pain, 
The  golden  harp  of  heav'n  she  strung. 
And  thus  the  tuneful  goddess  sung  : 
Lovely  penitent,  arise, 

Come,  aud  claim  thy  kindred  skies  ; 

Come,  thy  sister  angels  say. 

Thou  hast  wept  thy  stains  away. 
Let  experience  now  decide 

T'wixt  the  good  and  evil  tried,  ' 


^Y   EDWARD   MOORE, 
la  the  smooth,  enohanted  ground, 
Say,  unfold  the  treasures  found. 

Stiuotures,  rais'd  by  morning  dreams, 
Sauds,  that  trip  the  flitting  streams, 
Down,  that  anchors  on  the  air, 
Clouds,  that  paint  their  changes  there. 

Seas  that  smoothly  dimpling  lie. 
While  th6  storm  impends  on  high, 
Showing,  in  an  obvious  glass, 
Joys  that  in  possession  pass  ; 

Transient,  lickle,  light,  and  gay, 
Flatt'ring,  only  to  betray  ; 
What,  alas  !  can  life  contain  ! 
Life  !  like  all  its  circles  —  vain. 

W'ill  the  stork,  intending  rest, 
On  the  billow  build  her  nest  ? 
Will  the  bee  demand  his  store 
From  the  bieak,  and  bladeless  shore.** 
Man  alone,  intent  to  stray. 
Ever  turns  from  wisdom's  way, 
Lays  up  wealth -in  foreign  land, 
vSows  the  sea,  and  plows  the  sand. 

Soon  this  elemental  mass*, 
Soon  tb'  incumb'ring  world  shall  j^ass, 
Form  be  wrapt  in  wasting  lire. 
Time  be  spent,  and  life  expire. 

Then,  ye  feoasted  works  oi  men, 
Where  is  your  asA  lum  then  ? 
Sons  of  pleasure,  sonsof  <'are. 
Tell  me,  mortals,  tell  me  where  ? 

Gone,  like  traces  on  the  deep, 
Like  a  sceptre  grasp'd  in  sleep  ,  * 
Dews  exhal'd  from  morning  glades, 
Melting  snows,  and  gliding  shades. 

Pass  the  world,  and  what's  behind  ? 
Virtue's  go:d,  by  lire  rci:n'd ; 


FABLES 
From  an  universe  deprav'd, 
,  From  the  wreck  ol  nature  sav'J. 

Like  the  life-supporting  grain; 
Fruit  of  patience  and  of  pain, 
On  the  swain's  autumnal  day, 
Winnow'd  from  the  chaff  away. 

Little  trembler,  iear  no  more, 
Thou  hast  plenteous  crops  in.store; 
Seed,  by  gfcnial  sorrows  sown, 
More  thnn  all  thy  scoruersown. 

What  tho'  hostile  earth  despise, 
Heav'n  beholds  Avith  gentler  eyes ; 
Heav'n  thy  friendless  steps  shall  guide, 
Chear  thy  hours,  and  guard  thy  side. 

When  the  fatal  truHip  shall  sound. 
When  th' immortals  pour  around, 
Heav'n  shall  thy  return  attest, 
Hail'd  by  myi'iads  of  the  bless'd.  • 

Little  native  of  the  skies, 
Lovely  pen. tent,  arise ; 
Calm  thy  bosom,  cleac  thy  brow. 
Virtue  s  thy  sister  now.- 

More  delightful  are  my.  woes. 
Than  the  rapture  pleasure  knov\s  : 
Richer  iar  the  weeds  1  bring, 
Than  th?  robes  that  grace  a  king. 

On  my  vvars,  of  shortest  date. 
Crowns  of  endless  triumph  wait  j 
On  my  cares,  a  per:od  l)less'd  ; 
On  ray  toils,  eternal  rest. 

Come  with  Virtue  at  thy  sidr, 
Come,  be  ev'ry  bar  delled,  , 
'Till  we  gain  our  native  shore, 
Sister,  oome,  and  turn  no  more. 


liY   EDWARD    MOORE.    '        217 


FABLE  XVI, 

LOVE   ANn   VANITY. 

_L  HE  breezy  mox'ning  brcath'd  perfuine. 
The  wak'ninf(  Jlovv'rs  unveil'd  their  bloom, 
Up  with  the  sun,  from  short  repose 
Gay  health  and  Iflsly  labouf'  rose, 
The  milk-maid  carol'd  at  her  pail,'  ' 
And  shepherds  vvliistled  o'er  tl:e  dale  ; 
When  Love,  who  led  a  rural  life, 
Remote  fcom  hiistle,  state,  and  strife, 
Forth  from  his  thatch-roof'd  cottage  stray'd, 
Aud  stroU'd  along  the  dewy  glade. 

A  nymph,  who  lightly  trip'd  it  by, 
To  quick  attention  turn'd  his  eye  ; 
He  mark'd  the  gesture  of  the  fair, 
Her  self-sufficient  grace  and  a!r, 
Her  steps  that  mincing  me%nt  to  pleasr?. 
Her  studied  negligence  and  ease; 
Aud  crtrious'to  enquire  \\hat  meant 
This  thing  of  prettiness  and  paint, 
Approaching  spoke,  and  bow'd  observant; 
The  lady,  slightly,  —  Sir,  yorur  servant. — 

Such  beauty  in  so  rude  a  place  ! 
Tair-one,  you  do  the  couq^ry  grace ; 
At  court,  no  doubt,  the  publick  cafe. 
But  Love  has  small  acquaintance  tiierc. — » 

Yes,  Sir,  replied  fhe  flutt'r  ng  dame, 
This  form  confesses  whence  it  came  j 
But  dear  variety!,  you  kngw. 
Can  make  us  pride  and  pomp  forego. 
My  name  is  Vanity,  I  swny 
The  utmost  islands  of  fhe  sea  •, 


FABLES 
Within  my  court  all  honour  centers  ; 
I  raise  the  meanest  soul  that  enters, 
Endow  with  latent  gifts  and  graces. 
And  model  fools  for  posts  and  places. 

As  Vanity  appoints  at  pleasure, 
The  ■^^  orld  receives  its  weight  and  measure  •, 
Hence  all  the  grand  concerns  of  life,   • 
Joys,  cares,  plagues,  passions,  pezce  and  strife. 

Reflect  how  far  my  pow'r  prevails, 
Wlien  I  step  in  -where  natift-e  fails, 
And  ev'ry  breach-of  sense  repairing, 
Am  bounteous  slill,  where  heav'n  is  sparing. 

But  chief  in  all  their,  arts,  and  airs, 
Their  playing,  painting,  jio^its,  and  pray  r^, 
Their  various  habits  a/id  compJexions, 
Fits,  frolicks,  foibles,  and  perfections, 
.Their  robing,  curling  anod  adorning. 
From  noon  to  night,  from  night  to  morning, 
From  six  to  sixty,  sick  or  sound, 
I  rule  the  female  world  around. 

Hold  there  a^poment,  Cupid  cried  , 
iNor  boast  dominion  quite  so  wide. 
Was  there  no  province  tm  invade, 
But  that  by  Lo%'e  and  Meekness  sway 'd  ? 
Allother  empire  I  resign, 
Bui  be  the  sphere  of  beauty  mine. 

For  in  the  downy  tawn  of  rest 
That  opens  on  a  Roman's  breast, 
Attended  by  my  peaceful  I  rain, 
I  choose  to  live,  aud  choose  to  reigu. 

Far-sighted  faith  I  b»ng  along, . 
And  truth,  above  an  army  strong; 
And  chastity,  of  icy,  mould, 
Within  the  burning  tropicks  coid  ; 
And  lovvhness,  to  \'\hc5se  mild  brow 
The  pow'r  and  pride  of  nations  bow;  • 


I 


BY   EDWARD   MOORE.  219 

And  modesty,  with  downcast  eye, 
That  lends  the  niorn  her  virgin  die; 
And  innocence,  array'd  in  light; 
And  honour,  as  a  tow'r  upright: 
With  s\Yeetly  winning  graces,  more 
Than  poets  ever  dreamt  of  yore, 
In  unaffected  conduct  free, 
All  sm.ling  sisters,  three  times  three, 
And  rosy  peace,  the  cherub  bless'd, 
That  nightly  sings  us  all  to  rest. 

Hence,  from  the  bud  of  nature's  prime. 
From  the  first  step  of  infant  time, 
Woman,  the  world's  appointed  light. 
Has  skirted  ev'ry  sliade  with  white; 
Has  stood  for  imitation  high, 
To  ev'ry  heart  and  ev'ry  eye ; 
From  ancient  deeds  of  fair  renmvn, 
Has  brought  her  bright  memorials  dowu ; 
To  time  affix'd  perpetual  youth, 
And  form'd  each  tale  of  love  and  [rutli. 

Upon  a  new  Prometheau  plan, 
She  moulds  the  essence  of  a  man, 
Tempers  his  mass,  his  genius  fires, 
And,  as  a  better  soul,  inspires. 

The  rude  she  softens,  warms  the  cold, 
Exalts  the  meek,  andchecKS  the  bold, 
Calls  sloth  from  his  supine  repose. 
Within  the  cow  ard's  bosom  glows, 
Of  pride  unplumes  the  lofty  crest, 
Bids  bashful  ment  stand  confess'd, 
And  like  coarse  metal  from  the  mines, 
Collects,  irradiates,  and  refines. 

The  gentle  science  she  imparts. 
All  manners  smooths,  informs  all  hearts  ; 
From  her  sweet  influence  are  felt 
Passions  that  please,  and  thoughts  that  melt ; 


FABLtS 
To  stormy  rage  she  bids  controul, 
And  sinks  serenely  on  the  soul, . 
Softens  Deucalion's  flinty  race, 
And  tunes  the  ^varring  world  to  peace. 

Thus  arin'd  to  all  thafs  light,  and  vain, 
And  freed  from  thy  fantastick  chain, 
She  fills  the  sphere  by  hcav'n  assign'd, 
And  rul'd  by  me,  o'er -rides  mankind. 

He  spoke.  The  n\m])h.impatient  stood, 
And,  laughing,  thus  her  speech  renew  d. 

And  pi  ay,  Sir,  may  I  bs  so  bold 
To  hope  your  pretty  tale  is  told; 
And  next  demand,  without  a  cavil, 
.  What  new  Utopia  do  you  travel.**  — 
Upon  my  tvo;  d,  these  high-flown  fancies 
Shew  depth  of  learning  —  in  rQmances. 

Why,  what  unfashion'd  stuff  you  tell  us. 
Of  buckram  dames  and  tiptoe  fellows .' 
Go,  child  :  and  when  you're  grown  maturer, 
You'il  sl\oot  your  next  opinion  surer. 

O  .such  a  pretty  knack  at  painting  ! 
And  all  for  soft'ning,  and  for  fainting  ! 
Guess  now,  who  can,  a  single  feature, 
Thro'  the  whole  piece,  of  female  nature  ! 
Then  mark  !  my  looser  hand  may  fit 
The  lines  too  coarse  for  Love  lohit. 

'Tis  said  that  woman,  ])rone  to  changing, 
Thro'  all  the  rounds  of  folly  ranging. 
On  life's  uncertain  ocean  riding, 
Wo  reason,  rule,  nor  rudder  guiding, 
Is  like  the  comct!swand'ring- light, 
Eccentriok,  ominous,  and  bright. 
Trackless,  and  shifting  as  the  wind. 
A  sea  whose  fathom  none  can  find, 
A  moon  still  changing  and  levoh  iug, 
A  riddle  past  all  human  solving. 


BY   EDWARD  MOORE.  2 

A  bliss,  a  j)lague,  a  hcav'n,  a  hell, 

A —  something  that  no  man  can  tell. 

Now  learn  a  secret  from  a  friend, 
But  keep  your  counsel,  and  attend. 

Tho'  in  their  tempers  thought  so  distant. 
Nor  with  their  sex  nor  seh  es  consistent, 
'Tis  but  the  diff 'rence  of  a  name, 
And  ev'ry  woiijan  is  the  same. 
For  as  the  s', orld,  however  varied, 
And  thro'  unnumber'd  changes  carried. 
Of  elemental  modes  and  forms, 
Clouds,  meteors,  colours,  calms  and  stomas, 
Tho'  in  a  thousand  suits  array'd, 
Is  of  onasubject  matter  made  ; 
So,  Sir,  a  woman's  constitution. 
The  world's  enigma,  finds  solution, 
And  let  her  form  be  what  you  will, 
lam  the  subject  essence  stjll. 

With  the  first  spark  of  female  sense, 
The  speck  of  being,  I  comyience, 
Withi"n  the  womb  make  Iresh  advancts. 
And  dictate  future  qualms  and  fancies  ; 
Thence  in  the  growing  form  expand. 
With  childhood  travel  har.u  in  hand , 
And  give  a  taste  to  all  the  r  joys 
In  gev/gaws,  rattles,  pomp,  and  npise. 

iCnd  now,  familiar  and  unav,'d, 
I  send  the  flutt'riug  soul  ab'oad. 
Pra  s'd  for  her  shape,  her  a.r,  her  mien, 
*rhe  little  goddess,  and  the  queen. 
Takes  at  her  iniant  shrine  oblation, 
And  driaks  sweet  draughts  of  adulation. 

Now  blooming,  tall,  erect,  and  lair. 
To  dress,  becomes  her  darling  care  ; 
The  realms  of  beauty  then  I  bound, 
I  swell  the  hoop's  enchanting  round, 

19 


FABLES . 
Shrink  in  the  waist's  descending  size, 
Heav'd  in  the  snowy  bosom  rise, 
High  on  the  floaling  lappet  sail, 
Or  curld  in  tresses  kiss  the  gale. 
Then  lo  her  glass  I  lead  the  i'air, 
And  she\y  th'e  lovely  idol  there  ; 
Where,  struck  as  by  divine  emotion, 
She  bows  with  most  sincere  devotion, 
Arid  numb'ring  ev'ry  beauty  o'er, 
•  In  secret  bids  the  w  orld  adore. 

Then  all  for  parking,  and  parading, 
Coquetting,  dancing,  masquerading ; 
For  balls,  plays,  courts,  and  crow  ds  what  pas.--  V 
And  cBurches,  sometimes  —  if  the  fashion  , 
For  women's  sqpse  of  right  anS.  wrong 
Is  rul'd  by  the  almighty  throng  ;, 
Still  turns  to  each  meander  tame, 
And  swims,  the  straw  of  ev'ry  stream  ; 
Her  soul  intrinsick  worth.rejects,* 
Accomivlish'd  only  in  defects  ; 
Such  excelletice  is  her  ambition, 
FoUv,  her  wisest  acquisition, 
And  ev'n  from  pity  and  disdain. 
She'll  ciill  some  reason  to  be  vain. 

Thus,  Sir,  from  ev'ry  form  and  feature. 
The  wealth  and  wants  of  female  nature, 
And  ev'n  from  vice,  which  you'd  admirt, 
I  gather  fuel  to  the  lire ; 
And  on  the  very  base  of  shame 
Erect  my  monument  of  fame. 

Let  me  another  truth  attempt, 
Of  which  your  godship  has  not  dreamt. 

•  Thtjse  shining  virtues  which  you  muster, 
Whence  think  you  they  derive  their  Iitstre.'* 
From  native  honour  and  devotion  .-* 
O  yes,  a  mighty  likely  notion  I 


BY  EDWARD  MOORE.  2^3 

Trust  me,  from  titled  dames  to  spinners, 
'Tis  I  make  saints,  whoe'er  imkes  syiaers  . 
'Tis  I  instruct  them  to  withdraw, 
And  hold  presumptuous  man  in  awe  : 
For  female  %yarth,  as  I  inspire. 
In  just. degrees  still  mounts  the  higher. 
And  virtue,  so.exlremely  nice, 
Demands  long  toil,  and  mighty  price  : 
Like  Sampson's  pillars,  fix'd  elafe, 
I  bear  the  sex's  tott'ring  state  ; 
Sap  these,  and  in  a  moment's  space 
Down  syiks  the  fabrick  to  its  bajse. 

Alike  from  titles  and  from  toys 
I  spring,  the  fount  of  female  joys ; 
In  ev'ry  widow,  wife,  and  miss, 
The  sole  artificer  of  bliss  ; 
For  them  each  tropick  I  explore, 
I  cleave  the  sand  of  "ev'ry  shore  ; 
For  them  unitinjg  India's  sail, 
Sabcca  breathes  her  farthest  gale  : 
For  them  the  bullion  I  refine, 
Dig  sense  and  virtue  from  the  mine, 
And  from  the  bowels  of  invention. 
Spin  oiit  the  various  arts  you  mention! 

Nor  bliss  alone  my  pow  'rs  bestow, 
They  hold  the  sov'reignbalm  of  woe; 
Beyond  the  stoick's  boasted  art, 
I  s©oth  the  heaving  of  the  heart; 
To  pain  give  splendor  and  reli^-f , 
And  gild  the  pallid  face  of  grief. 

Alike  the  palace  .and  the  plain 
Admit  the  glories  of  my  reign  ; 
Thro'  ev'ry  age,  in  ev'ry  nation. 
Taste,  talents,  tempers,  state;  and  station, 
Whate'er  a  woman  says,  I  say  : 
"VN'hate'er  a  woman  spends,  I  pay; 


224  F-VBLES 

Alike  I  fill  and  empJy  bags, 
Flufter  in  Mnery  and  rags ; 
With  light  coquets  thro'  folly  range,'  * 
And  with  the  prucTe  disdain  to  change. 

And  now  you'd  think,  'twixt  you  and  I, 
That  things  were  ripe  for  a  reply.  — 
But  soft,  and  while  I'm  in  the  mood, 
Kindly  permit  me  to  conclude, 
Their  utmost  mazes  to  unravel, 
And  touch  the  farthest  step  they  travel^ 

Wh-eu  ev'ry  pleasure's  run  aground. 
And  folly  tir'd  thro'  many  a  round, 
The  nymph  conceiving  discontent  hence, 
May  ripen  to  an  hour's  repentance, 
And  vapours, «hed  in  pious  moisture, 
Disrrj.ss  her  to  a  church  or  cloysfer : 
Then  oii  I  lead  her,  with  devotion 
Conspicuous  in  her  dress  and  motion, 
Inspire  the  heav'nly-breathing  air. 
Roll  up  the  lucid  eye  in  pray'r. 
Soften  the  voice,  and  in  the  face 
Look  melting  harmony,  and  grace. 

Thus  far  extends  my  friendly  pow'r 
Nor  quits  her  in  her  latest  hour. 
The  couch  of  decent  pain  I  spread, 
In  form  recline  her  languid  head  ; 
Her  thoughts  I  methodize  in  death, 
And  part  not  with  her  parting  breath  : 
Then  do  I  set,  in  order  bright, 
A  length  of  fun'ral  pomp  to  sight. 
The  glil.t'ring  tapers  and  attire, 
The  pinmes,  that  whiten  o'er  her  bier; 
And  last,  presenting  to  her  eye 
Augelick  fineries  on  high,  , 

To  scenes  of  painted  biiss  I  waft  her, 
And  form  the  heav'n  she  hopes  hereafter. 


B  Y   E  D  W  A  R  D    M  O  O  Pi  E.  225 

In  truth,  rejoin'd  love's  gentle  god. 
You've  gone  a  tedious  length  of  road, 
And  strange,  In  all  the  toilsome  way 
No  house  of  kind  refreshment  lay ; 
No  nymph,  whose  virtues  might  have  tempted, 
To  hold  her  from  her  sex  exempted. 

For  one,  we'll  never  quarrel,  man  ; 
Take  her,%nd  keep  her,  if  you  can  ;    • 
And  pleas'd  I  yield  to  your  petition, 
Since  ev'ry  :air,  by  such  permission, 
Will  hold  herself  the  one  selected, 
And  so  my  system  stalids  protected. 

O  deaf  to  virtue,  deaf  to  glory, 
To  truths  divinely  vouch'd  ,n  story  .' 
The  godhead  in  his  zeal  return'd. 
And  kincTling  at  her  malice  burn'd ; 
Then  s.\eetly  tais'd  his  voice,  and  told 
Of  heav'aly  nymphs,  rever'dof  old  ; 
Hipsipyle,  who  sav'd  her  sire, 
And  Portia's  love,  approv'd  by  fire ; 
Alike  Penelope  was  quoted. 
Nor  laurel'd  Daphne  pass'd  unnoted  ; 
Nor  Laodamia's  fatal  garter. 
Nor  fam'd  Lucretia,  honour's  martyr; 
Alceste's  voluntary  steel. 
And  Cath'rinp,  smiling  on  the  wheel. 
But  who  can  hope  to  plant  conviction, 
Where  cavil  grows  on  contradiction  .' 
Some  she  evades,  or  disavows. 
Demurs  to  all,  and  none  allows ; 
A  kind  of  ancient'thing  call'd  fables  I 
And  thus  the  goddess  turn'd  the  tables. 

Now  both  in  argument  grew  high, 
And  choler  fiash'd  from  either  eye ; 
Nor  wonder  each  refus'd  to  yield 
The  conquest  o^  so  fair  a  field. 


226  FABLES 

When  Lappily  arrlv'd  in  view 
A  goddess  whom  our  grandames  knew. 
Of  aspect  gi-ave,  and  sober  gait, 
Majestick,  awful,  and  sedate. 
As  heav'n's  autumnal  eve  serene. 
When  not  a  cloud  o'ercasts  the  scene ; 
Once  Prudence  call'd,  a  matrqp  fam'd. 
And  in  old  Rome  Cornelia  nam'd  : 
Quick,  at  a  venture,  both  agree 
To  leave  their  strife  to  her  decree. 

And  now  hy  eagh  the  facts  were  stated 
In  form  and  manner  as  related. 
The  case  was  short.  Thpy  crav'd  opinion, 
W^hich  heild  o'er  females  chief  dominion: 
When  thus  the  goddess,  ansvv'ring  mild, 
First.shook  her  gracious  head,  and  smil'd. 

Alas,  how  willing  to  comply, 
Yet  how  unlit  to  judge  am  I*' 
In  times  of  golden  date,  'tis  true, 
I  shar'd  the  iickle  sex  with  you  ; 
But  from  their  presence  long  precluded^ 
Or  held  as  one,  whose  form  intruded, 
Full  fifty  annual  suns  can  tell, 
Prudeuce  has  bid  the  sex  farewell. 

In  this  dilemma  what  to  do, 
Or  wlxo  to  think  of,  tieither  knew; 
For  both,  sti'dbiass'd  in  opinion, 
And  arrogant  of  sole  dominion, 
Were  forc'd  to  hold  the  case  compounded, 
Or  leave  the  quarrel  where  they  found  it. 

When  in  the  nek,  a  rural  fair, 
Of  inexperienc'd  gait  and  air,       '      •     , 
Who  ne'er  had  el  oss'd  the  neighh'ring  lake, 
Nor  seen  the  world  beyond  a  wake. 
With  canibrick  coif,  and  kerchief  clean, 
Tript  lightly  by  them  o'er  the  green. 


BY  EDWARD   MOORE.  2 

Now,  now!  cried  love's  triumphant  child, 
And  at  approaching  conquest  smil'd, 
If  Vanity  will  once  be  guided. 
Our  d.ff'rence  soon  m9y  be  decided. 
Behold  yon  wench,  A  fit  occasion 
To  try  your  force  of  gay  persuasion. 
Go  you,  while  I  retire  aloof, 
Go,  put  those  boasted  pow'rs  to  proof*, 
And  if  your  prevalence  of  art  * 

Transcends  my  yet  unerring  dart, 
I  give  the  fav'rite  contest  o'er, 
And  ne'er  will  boast  my  empire  more. 

At  once,  so  5aid,  and  so  consented  ; 
And  well  our  goddess  seera'd  contented, 
Nor  pausing,  made  a  moment's  stand. 
But  tr.pt,  and  took  the  girl  in  hand. 

Meanwhile  the  godhead,  unalarm'd. 
As  one  to  each  occasion  arm'd, 
Ii'orth  from  his  quiver  cull  d  a  dart. 
That  ersi  had  wounded  many  a  heart ; 
Then  bending,  drew  it  to  the  head  ; 
The  bow-string  twang'd,  the  arrow  fled, 
And  to  her  secret  .soul  addrcss'd, 
Transfix' d  the  whiteness  of  her  breast. 

But  here  the  dame,  whose  guardian  care 
Had  to  a  moment  watch'd  the  fair. 
At  once  her  pocket  mirror  drr.v. 
And  held  the  wonder  full  in  view  ; 
As  quickly  rang'd  in  otder  bright, 
A  thousand  beautio  rush  to  sieht, 
A  world  of  chsrrms  till  now  unknown, 
A  world  reveal' d  to  her  alofle  ; 
Enraptur'd  stands ^he  love-sick  maid, 
Suspended..oer  the  darling  shade, 
Here  only  fixes  to  admire. 
And  centers  ev'ry  fond  desire. 
THE    END. 


NOTES  . 

ON     THE 

FABLES  OF  JOHN  GAY. 

J:  AGE  1 5,  line  1 3.  Hound:  a  dog  who  follows  liis 
game  by  the  scent  {cJiien-courant).  Gre\ hound  :  a 
dog  that  follows  game  by  his  sight  {levrier). 

Pag.  17,  1.  5.  Our  skin  supplies  :  most  of  the 
contracts  made  betv\een  dilferent  persons  in  Eng- 
land, such  as  leases,  mortga2:es,  marriage  articles,  etc. 
which  are  most  subject  to  litigation,  are  written  on 
parchment  made  of  sheep's  skins :  the  heads  of  drums 
are  made  of  the  same  material. 

Pag.  24i  1-  2.  Hangman's  fees :  for  every  cri- 
minal executed  in  England  the  government  pays  to 
the  hangman  a  certain  recompense. 

P;ig.  29,  1.24.  Ared-coar:  the  general  military 
uaiJornx  of  English  soldiets  is  red:  as  tliey  are  repu- 
ted men  of  galiautrv,  the  .;onntry  maidens  are  taught 
to  fear  making  acquaintance  with  tliem. 

Pag.  34,  1.  8.  Ye.irly  groat:  it  is  a  kind  of  pro- 
verbial saying,  th.'<  a  pin  saved  every  day  will  amount 
to  the  value  of  a  groat  f  four  pence )  a-year. 

Ibid.  v.  12.  Gresl.ara-hall:  the  cobege  of  phy- 
sicians in  LoudoTi. 

Pag.  35.,  Jiij,  /7.  IJghtfoot:  the  supposed  name 
of  the  shepherd's  do^. 

Pag.  37,  1.  io.  Second  piy:  the  custom  for  the 
payment  of  jiortraits  was  half  the  sitm  agreed  on.. it 
first  sitting;  the  remainder  on  de  ivcring  thepicture. 

Pag.  46, 1.  1,2.  Straws  laid  across,  the  horse-shoe's 


NOTES.  22y 

Mailed,  etc, :  means  imagined  by  weak  cotftiti'y  people 
to  preveat  the  mlscliievous  operations  ot  witches 
who,  to  escape  the  rage  of  the  populace,  are  supposed 
able  to  mount  into  the  air  riding  on  a  broomstick. 

Pag.  49,  1.  2.  Puss:  the  common  name  for  a  cat, 
as  miiiette  in  flinch. 

Pag.  02,  1.  18.  Curl:  a  bookseller  and  pnbUsUer 
noted,  at^the  time  those  fables  were  wrgitten,  for  sell- 
ing counterfeited  editions  Of  books,  scandalous  me- 
morials, anecdotes,  etc.   . , 

Pag.  60,  1.  5.  Wand  :  certain  flice'rs  under  go- 
Tcrnmeut  carry  white  wands  when  they  are  in  ser- 
vice, as  marks  of  distinction. 

Pag.  62,  1.  1 5.  Hockley-hole,  Mary-bpne :  places 
near  London,  noted  for  combats  of  dogs,  etc. 

Pag.  63,  1.24.  Ale  and  be^  :  these  liquors  afe 
made  fiom  barley.  " 

Pag.  0)5^  1.  19,  20.  Submit  .to  fat^  etc.  :  the 
9th  and  loth  verses  of  a  satyr^ck  poem,  called  ihfi 
Dispensary,  written  by  doctgr  Garth. 

Ibid.  1.  28  ;  66, 1.  2.  The  salt  is  spilt,  knife  and 
fork  laid  across,  etc.  :  considered  by  the  ignorant 
vulgar  as  prognosticks  of  misfortunes. 

Pag.  66,  1.  8.  Cornish  :  the  inhabitants  of  Corn- 
wall. 

Ibid.  1,  24.  Ball :  a  common  name  for  a  farmer's 
horse. 

Pag.  67,  1.  25,  27,  28.  Turkeys,  oysters,  chine 
of  sa  t  pork :  dishes  frequently  served  at  table  about 
Christmas  {JS'oS/)..  ■  • 

Pag.  70,  1.  21.  Southwark  fa  r:  a  fa'.r  annually 
held  in  a  suburb  of  London,  likft  that  of  S.  Laurent 
at  Paris. 

Pag.  71,  1.  3,  4.  Thp-flaj)  round,  somersets: 
different  tricks  shewn  by  tumblers  \faire  la  rone, 
le  saut  a  la  carpe). 

20 


'2io  NOTES. 

Pag.  74,  ir  27.     Waad :  see  note  pAge  60,  line  5. 

Ibid.  1.  3o.  A  cliurch-warden  blows  in  :  a  saty- 
rick  stroke  against  the  cburch-wardens,  supposing 
that  they  spend,  in  regaling  themselves,  the  money 
destined  for  the  poor. 

Pag.  97,  1.  23.  Moloch:  a  iamcMs  god  of  the 
Ammonites,  to  whose  idol  children  were  sacirflced. 
In  the  Bible,  th^Jews  are  often  reproached  with  ma- 
king these  sacrifices  to  Moloch. 

Pag.  100,  l.,ii.  The  lavvsn  pursue  :  solicit  to  be 
made  bishops;  those  dignitaries  wearing  large  sleeves 
made  of  lawn  {tinon). 

Pag.  loi,  1.  34.  Scandalum  magnatmn:  ca- 
lumny against  persons  of  high  consideration. 

Pag.  112,  1.  I.     Yap:   the  name   of  the  squire's 

dof.  ^  II 

Pag.  117,  1.  I.  A  syllable  is  wanting  to  complete 
the  measure  >vhich  Gay  has  adopted  in  these  fables. 
The  same  defect  however  appears  in  all  the  English 
editions  we  have  seen:  We  believe  it  ought  to  be 

]Sow  see  hira  mad  and  drunk  -vrith  power. 

* 

•Pag.  1 3 1,  1.  1 5,.  19.  Roan,  Ball:  names  fre- 
quently given  to  cart-horses. 

Pag.  i33,  1.  5.  Threw  .the  main:  a  term  used  in 
certain  games  with  dice. 

Ibid.  1.37.     Pilf'ring  rattle:  the  dice-box. 

Pag.  145,  1.  2."  Corelli;  an  eqaitient  Italian  musi- 
cian, who  died  in  1733. 

Pag.  i5i,  h  ^{\.  He  brought  :  the  pronoun  he 
refers  to  deaths  which  in  EngUsh  is  of  the  masculine 
gender,  * 


NOTES 


FABLES  OF  EDWARD  MOORE. 


JLAGE  1 56,  line  27.  Author  of  Gustavus  Vasa: 
II.  Brooke,  Esq, 

Pag.  176,  1,  19.  Past  twelve  o'clock:  a  guard, 
called  a  watchman,  is  posted  in  almost  every  street  of 
London,  during  the  «;ght!  To  prove  his  vigilance, 
he  is  obliged,  when  the  clock  strikes,  to  announce  the 
hour  in  a  loud  voice. 

Pag.  178,  1.  18.  Hardwick  :  lord  chancellor  of 
England,  during  t>\enty  years;  one  of  the  most  able 
lawyers  and  upright  judges  that  kingdom  has  ever 
known. 

Pag.  189,  I.  3r>..  Elackmore  ;  a  physician  who 
died  in  i  726.  He  wrote  several  poems,  for  which  he 
gained  but  little  reputation,  especially  among  the 
other  poets  of  h^s  time. 

Ibid.  1.  33.     Curl;  see  note  on  page  52. 

Pag.  190,  1.  22.  Gibber:  a  celebrated  come- 
dian, and  for  many  years  poet-laureat,  in  which  post 
he  was  obliged  to  write  tvvo  odes  every  year;  one  for 
the  new  year,  the  other  for  the  anniversary  .of  the 
king's  birth -day;  these  subjects  had  been  so  ex- 
hausted, that  they  could  not  be  favourable  to  the 
genius  of  any  poet.  P)nt  Gibber  so  far  surpassed  the 
dulness  of  his  predecessors,  that  Pope  ma^,  him 
the  hero  of  his  celebrated  mock-heroick  poeiL|the 
Dunciad. 

Ibid.  1.  24.     Henley:  a  licentious  priest,  noted, 


a32        •  NOTES. 

even  to  a  proverb,  for  want  of  morals,  modesty,  and 

learning. 

Pag.  192,  1.  I .  Dem-me :  an  affected  manner  of 
pronouncing  Damn  me. 

Ibid.  1.  1 5.  Masons'  sign:  one  of  the  secrets  of 
tbe  society  of  Free-masons. 

Pag.  220,1.  r4.  Utopia:  an  imaginary  country 
wTiere  not. only  the  government,  but  every  thing,  is 
perfect.  An  account  of  this  country  has  been  given 
by  Sir  Thomas  More,  chancellor  of  England  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  eighth,  under  the  title  of  Utopia. 

Pag.  222,  1.  II.  Parking;  going  frequently  to 
the  park,  which  is  the  principal  pubUck  walk  at 
London,  as  the  Tuileries  at  Paris. 

S.  Baldwin. 


EXD    OF    THE    NOTKS. 


♦• 


TABLE 

OF  THE  FABLES 

BY  JOHN  GAY. 


PART   THE   FIRST. 

XxTRODrrxiox  tothe  Fables.  The  Sheptieftd 

and  the  Philosopher.                            Page  5 

To  his  highness  William,  duke'  of  Cumher- 
land. 

1  The  Lion,  the  Tyger,  and  the  Traveller.  <j 

2  The  Spaniel  and  the  Cameleon.  12 

3  The  Mother,  the  Nurse,  and  the  Faiiry,  i3 

4  The  Eagle  and  the  assembly,  of  animals.  14 

5  The  wild  Boar  and  the  Ram.  16 

6  The  Miser  and  Plutus.  1 7 

7  The  Lion,  the  Fox,  and  the  Geese.  19 

8  The  Lady  and  the  Wasp.  20 

9  The  Bull  and  the  Mastilf.  22 

10  The  Elephant  and  the  Bookseller.  si 

11  The  Peacock,  the  Turkey,  and  the  Goose.  i5 

12  Cupid,  Hymen,  and  Plutus.   •  27 

1 3  The  tame  Stag.  28 

14  The  ^lonkey  who  had  seen  the  world.  3o 
I  5  The  Philosopher  and  the  Pheasants.  32 
16  The  Pin  and  the  Needle.  33 
I  7  The  shepherd's  Dog  and  the  Wolf.  3ti 
iS  The  Paiute»who  pleased  nobody  and  every 

body,  35 


534  TABLE. 

19  The  LioE  and  the  Cub.  Page 

20  The  old  Hen  and  the  Cock. 

21  The  Rat-catcher  audCats. 
11.   The  Goat  without  a  beard. 

2  3  The  old  Woman  and  her  Cats. 

24  The  Butterfly  and  the  Snail. 

25  The  Scold  and  the  Parrot. 
SI0  The  Cur  and  the  Mastiff. 

27  The  sick  Man  and  the  Angel. 

28  The  Persian,  the  Sun,  and  the  Cloud. 

29  The  Fox  at  the  point  of  death. 

30  The  settng  Dog  and  the  Partridge. 

3 1  The  universal  Apparition. 

82  The  two  Owls  and  ihe  Sparrow. 

33  The  Courtier  and  Proteus. 

34  The  Ma  stiffs: 

35  The  Rarley-mow  and  the  Dunghill. 
.  36  Pythrigoras  and  the  Countryman. 

37  The  Farmer's  Wife  and  the  Raven. 

38  The  Turkey  and  the  Ant. 
3L9  The  I'^ather  and  Jupiter. 

■  40  The  two  Monkeys.  • 

41  The  Owl  and  the  Farmer. 

42  The  Jugglers. 

43  The  Council  of  Horses. 

44  The  Hound  and  the  Huntsman. 

45  The  Poet  and  the  Rose. 

46  The  Cur,  the  Horse,  and  the  shepherd's  D^g. 

47  The  Court  of  Death. 

48  The  Gardener  and  the  Hog, 

49  The  Man  and  the  Flea. 

50  The  Hare  and  many  friends. 


TABLE.  235 
PART  THE  SECOND. 

Advertisement.                                        Page  89 

1  The  Dog  and  tlj,e  Fox.  lb. 

2  The  Vulture,  the  Sparrow, and  other  Birds. 

3  The  Bal)oon  and  tba  Boultry. 

4  The  Ant  in  ofiice.  100 

5  The  Bear  n  a  boat.  104 

6  The  Squire  and  his  Cur.  108 

7  The  Countryman  and  Jupiter.  ii3 

8  The  Man,  the  Cat,  the  Dog,  and  the  hj.     ,  1 18 

9  The  Jackall,  Leopard,  and  other  Beasts.  122 

10  The  degenerate  Bees.  ia6 

11  The  Pack-horse  and  the  Carrier.  120 

12  Pan  and  Fortune.  iSa 

1 3  Plutus,  Cupid,  and  Time.  i36 

1 4  The  Owl,  the  Swan,  the  Cock,  the  Spider,  the 

Ass,  and  the  Farmer.  141 

1 5  The  Cook-maid,  the  Tumspit,  and  the  Ox.  1 45 

16  The  Ravens,  the  Sexton,  and  the  Earth  worm.  149 


TABLE 

OF  THE  FABLES 

BY  EDWARD  MOORE. 


J:  REFACE.  •  •     Page 

1  The  liaglg  and  tUe  assembly  of  Birds. 

2  The  Panther,  the  liorse,  and  other  Beasts. 

3  The  Nightingale  and  the  Glow-worm. 

4  Hymen  and  Death. 

5  The  Poet  and  Ifls  Patron. 

6  The  Wolf,  the  Sheep,  and  the  Lamb. 

7  The  Goose  and  the  Swans, 

8  The  Lawyer  and  Justice. 

9  The  I'^armer,  the  Spaniel,  and  the  Cat.  . 

10  The  Spider  au4  the  Bee. 

1 1  The  young  Lion  and  the  Ape. 

12  The  Colt  and  the  Farmer. 

1 3  The  Owl  and  the  ]\if;htingale. 

1 4  The  Sparrow  and  the  Dove. 

1 5  The  Female  Seducers. 

1 6  Love  and  Vanity. 


j[56. 
i57 

i6o 

163 

164 

166 

169 

172 

175 

178 

181 

i83 

185^ 

18S 

202 
u^7 


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