I traverse all the house and play THE APE, TAE PARROT, AND THE My tricks and gambols ev'ry day: JACKDAW.

Oft with my mistress in a chair

I ride abroad to take the air; I hold it rash at any time

Make visits with her, walk at large, To deal with fools dispos’d to rhymne ;

A niaid or fooi man's constant charge. Dissuasive arguments provoke

Yet this is noth ng, for I find Their utmost rage as soon as spoke:

Myself still hamper'd and confin'd; Encourage them, and for a day

A grov'ling thing : I fain would rise
Ortwo you're safe by giving way;

Above the Earth and mount the skies:
But when they find themselves betray'd, The meanest birds, and insects too,
On you at last the blame is laid.

This feat with greatest ease can do.
They hate and scorn you as a traitor,

To that gay creature turn about The common lot of those who flatter:

That's beating on the pane without; But can a cribbler, sir, be shunnid ?

Ten days ago, perhaps but five,
What will you do when teas'd and dunn'd?

A worm, it scarcely seem'd alive:
When watch'd, and caught, and closely press’d, By threads suspended, tough and small,
When complimented and caress'd,

Midst dusty cobwebs on a wall;
When Bavius greets you with a bow,

Now dress’d in all the diff'rent dyes “Sir, please to real a line or two ;"

That vary in the ev’ning skies, If you approve and say they're clever,

He soars at large, and on the wing “ You inake me happy, sir, for ever."

Enjoys with freedom all the spring; What can be done? the case is plain,

Skims the fresh lakes, and rising sees No methods of escape remain :

Beneath him far the loftiest trees; You're fairly noos’d, and must consent

And when he rests, he makes his bow's To bear, what nothing can prevent,

The cup of some delicious flow'r. A coxcomb's anger; and your fate

Shall creatures so obscurely bred, Will be to suffs soon or late.

On mere corruption nurs'd and fed, An ape ibat was the sole delight

A glorious privilege obtain, Of an old womanday and night,

Which I can never hope to gain? Indulg'd at table and in bed,

Shall I, like man's imperial race Attended like a child and fed :

In inanners, customis, shape and face, Who knew each trick, and twenty more

Expert in all ingenious tricks, Than ever monkey play'd before,

To tumble, dance, and leap o'er sticks ; At last grew frantic and wou'd try,

Who know to sooth and coax my betters, In spite of nature's Jaws, to fly.

And match a beau, at least in letters; Oft from the window wou'd he view

Shall I despair, and never try The passing swallows as they flew,

(What meanest insects can) to fly? Ob erve them fluttering round the walls, Say, mayn't I without dread or care Or gliding o'er the smooth canals:

At once commit me to the air, He too must fly, and cope with these;

And pot fall down and break my bones For this and nothing else wou'd please :

Upon those hard and finty stones? Oft thinking from the window's height,

Say, if to stir my limbs before Three stories down to take his flight:

Will make me glide along or soar ? He still was something loth to venture,

All things they say are learp'd by trying ; As tending strongly to the centre :

No doubt it is the same with flying. And knowing that the least mistake

I wait your judgment with respect, Might cost a limb, perhaps his neck.

And shall proceed as you direet.” The case you'll own was something nice;

Poor Poll, with gen’rous pity mor'd, He thought it best to ask advice;

The Ape's fond rashness thus repror'd: And to the parrot straight applying,

For, though instructed by mankind, Allow'd to be a judge of flying,

Her tongue to capdour still inclin'd. He thus began : “ You'll think me rude,

“ My friend, the privilege to rise Forgive me if I do intrude,

Above the Earth and mount the skies, For you alone my doubts can clear

Is glorious sure, and 'uis my fate In something that concerns me near :

To feel the want on't with regret ; Do you imagine, if I try,

A pris’ner to a cage confin’d, That I shall e'er attain to fly?

Though wing'd and of the flying kind. The project's whimsical, no doubt,

With you the case is not the same, But ere you censure hear me out:

You 're quite terrestrial by your frame, That liberty's our greatest blessing

And shou'd be perfectly content You'll grant me without farther pressing; With your pecular element: To live coufin’d, 'tis plain and clear,

You have no wings, I pray reflect, Is something very hard to bear:

To lift you and your course direct; This you must know, who for an age

Those arms of yours will never do, Have been kept pris'ner in a cage,

Not twenty in the place of two; Deny'd the privilege to soar

They ne'er can lift you from the ground, With boundless freedom as before,

For broad and long, they're thick and round; I have, 'tis true, much greater scope

And therefore if you choose the way, Than you my friend, can ever hope ;

To leap the window, as you say,

Each kind pursues his proper good,

And left him to compute his gairs,
And seeks for pleasure, rest, and foud,

With nought but labour for bis pains.
As nature points, and never errs
In what it chooses and prefers;
Man only blunders, though possest
Of talents far above the rest.

CELIA AND HER MIRROR.
Descend to instances and try;

As there are various sorts of minds, An ox will scarce attempt to fly,

So friendships are of diff'rent kinds : Or leave his pasture in the wood,

Some, constant when the object's near, With fishes to explore the food.

Soon vanish if it disappear. Man only acts, of every creature,

Another sort, with equal flame, In opposition to his nature.

In absence will be still the same : The happiness of human kind,

Some folks a trifle will provoke, Consists in rectitude of mind,

Their weak attachment soon is broke; A will subdu'd to reason's sway,

Some great offences only move And passions practis'd to obey ;

To change in friendship or in love. An open and a gen'rous heart,

Affection, when it has its source
Refin'd from selfisbness and art;

In things that shift and change of course,
Patience which mocks at fortune's pow'r, As these diminish and decay,
And wisdom never sad nor sour:

Must likewise fade and melt away.
In these consist our proper bliss ;

But when 'tis of a nobler kind, Else Plato reasons much amiss:

Inspir'd by rectitude of mind, But foolish mortals still pursue

Whatever accident arrives, False bappiness in place of true;

It lives, and death itself survives; Ambition serves us for a guide,

Those different kinds reduc'd to two, Or lust, or avarice, or pride;

False friendship may be call'd, and true. While reason no assent can gain,

In Celia's drawing-room of late And revelation warns in vain.

Some female friends were met to chat; Hence through our lives, in cvery stage,

Where after much discourse had past, From infancy itself to age,

A portrait grew the theme at last : A happiness we toil to find,

'Twas Celia's you must understand, Which still avoids us like the wind;

And by a celebrated hand.
Ev'n when we think the prize our own,
At once 'tis vanish’d, lost, and gone.

Says one, “ That picture sure must strike,

In all respects it is so like; You'll ask me why I thus rehearse

Your very features, shape and air All Epictetus in my verse,

Express'd, believe me, to a bair: And if I fondly hope to please

The price I'm sure cou'd not be small,” With dry reflections such as these,

“ Just fifty guineas frame and all.”— So trite, so hackney'd, and so stale ?

“ That mirror there is wond'rous fine, "-I'll take the hint and tell a tale.

“ I own the bauble cost me pine; One ev'ning as a simple swain

I'm fairly cheated you may swear, His flock attended on the plain,

For never was a thing so dear."The shining bow he chanc'd to spy,

“Dear!”-quoth the looking-glass—and spoke, Which warns us wben a show'r is nigh;

"Madam, it wou'd a saint provoke: With brightest rays it seem'd to glow,

Must that same gaudy thing be own'd Its distance eighty yards or so.

A pennyworth at fifty pound; This bumpkin had it seems been told

While I at nine am reckon'd dear, The story of the cup of gold,

'Tis what I never thought to hear. Which Fame reports is to be found

Let both our merits now be try'd, Just where the rainbow meets the ground; This fair assembly shall decide; He therefore felt a sudden itch

And I will prove it to your face, To seize the goblet and be rich;

That you are partial in the case. Hoping, (yet hopes are oft but vain):

I give a likeness far more true No more to toil through wind and rain,

Than any artist ever drew : But sit indulging by the fire,

And what is vastly more, express 'Midst ease and plenty, like a 'squire :

Your whole variety of dress: He mark'd the very spot of land

From morn to noon, from noon to night, On which the rainbow seem'd to stand,

I watch each change and paint it right;
And stepping forwards at his leisure

Besides I'm mistress of the art,
Expected to have found the treasure.
But as he mov'd, the colour'd ray

Which conquers and secures a heart.
Still chang'd its place and slipt away,

I teach you how to use those arms,

That vary and assist your charins,
As seeming his approach to shun;
From walking he began to run,

And in the triumphs of the fair,
But all in vain, it still withdrew

Claim half the merit for my sbare: As nimbly as he cou'd pursue ;

So when the truth is fairly told, At last through many a bog and lake,

I'm worth at least my weight in gold; Rough craggy road and thorny brake,

But that vain thing of which you speak It led the easy fool, till night

Becomes quite useless in a week.

For, though it had no other vice, Approach'd, then vanish'd in his sight,

'Tis out of fashion in a trice :

The cap is chang'd, the cloke, the gown;

A tale an ancient bard has told It must no longer stay in town;

Of two poor fishermen of old, But goes in course to hide a wall

Their names were (lest I should forget With others in your country-ball."

And put the reader in a pet, The mirror thus :-the nymph reply'd,

Lest critics too shou'd make a pother) Your merit cannot be deny'd:

The one Asphelio, Gripus t'other. The portrait too, I must confess,

The men were very poor, their trade In some respects has vastly less.

Cou'd scarce afford them daily bread: But you yourself will freely grant

Though ply'd with industry and care Ihat it has virtues which you want.

Through the whole season, foul and fair, 'Tis certain that you can express

Upon a rock their cottage stood, My shape, my features, and my dress,

On all sides bounded by the floud : Not just as well, but better too

It was a miserable seat, Than Kneller once or Ramsay now.

Like cold and hunger's worst retreat: But that same image in your heart

And yet it serv'd them both for lite, Which thus excels the painter's art,

As neither cou'd maintain a wife; The shortest absence can deface,

Two walls were rock, and two were sand, And put a monkey's in its place:

Ramm'd up with stakes and made to stand. That other which the canvas bears,

A roof hung threat'ning o'er their heads Uuchang'd and constant, lasts for years, Of boards half-rotten, thatch'd with reeds Wou'd keep its lustre and its bloom

And as no thjef e'er touch'd their store, Though it were here and I at Rome.

A hurdle serv'd them for a door.
When age and sickness shall invade

Their beds were leaves ; against the wall
Thuse youthful charms and make them fade, A sail hung drying, yard and all.
You'll soon perceive it, and reveal

On one side lay an old patch'd wherry
What partial friendship shou'd conceal: Like Charon's on the Stygian ferry:
You'll tell me, in your usual way,

On t'other, baskets and a net, Of furrow'd cheeks and locks grown gray ;

With sea-weed foul and always wet. Your gen'rous rival, not so cold,

These sorry instruments of trade Will ne'er suggest that I am uld;

Were all the furniture they bad: Nor mark when time and slow disease

For they had neither spit nor pot, Have stol'n the graces wont to pleases

Unless my author has forgot. But keep my image to be seen

Once, some few hours ere break of day, la the full blossom of sixteen:

As in their hut our fishers lay, Bestuwing freely all the praise

The one awak'd and wak'd his neighbour, I merited in better days.

That both might ply their daily labour; You will (when I am turn'd to dust,

For cold and hunger are confest For beauties die, as all things must,

No friends to indolence or rest. And you remember but by seeing)

“Friend,” quoth the drowsy swain, and swore, Forget that e'er I had a being :

“What you have done has hurt me more But in that picture I shall live,

Than all your service can repay My charms shall death itself survive.

For years to come by night and day; And figurd by the pencil there

You've broke—the thought on't makes me mad Tell that your mistress once was fair,

The finest dream that e'er 1 had." [ (prove Weigh each advantage and defect,

Quoth Gripus: “ Friend your speech wou'd The portrait merits most respect :

You mad indeed, or else in love; Your qualities would recommend

For dreams shou'd weigh but light with those A servant rather than a friend;

Who feel the want of tood and clothes : But service sure, in every case,

I guess, though simple and untaught,
To friendship yields the higher place."

You dream'd about a lucky draught,
Or money found by chance: they say,
Tbat hungry foxes dream of prey."

“ You're wond'rous sbrewd, upon my troth," THE FISHERMEN.

Asphelio cry'd," and right in both :

My dream had gold in't, as you said,
IWITATED FROM THEOCRITUS.

And fishing too, our constant trade;
By all the sages 'tis confest

And since your guess has hit so near, That hope when moderate is best:

In short the whole on't you shall hear. But when indulg'd beyond due measure,

“ Upon the shore I seem'd to stand, It yields a vain deceitful pleasure,

My rod and tackle in my hand; Which cheats the simple, and betrays

The baited hook full oft I threw, To mischief in a thousand ways:

But still in vain, I nothing drew : Just hope assists in all our toils,

A fish at last appear'd to bite, The wheels of industry it oils;

The cork div'd quickly out of sight, la great attempts the bosom fires,

And soon the dipping rod I found And zeal and constancy inspires.

With something weighty bent haif round: False hope, like a deceitful dream,

Quoth I, • Good luck has come at last, Rests on some visionary scheme,

I've surely made a happy cast: And keeps us idle to our loss,

This fish, when in the market sold, Enchanted with our hands across

In place of brass will sell for goid:'