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They forc'd their way thro' draggled folks, But the more knowing feather'd race
Who gap'd to catch jack-pudding's jokes;

Sce wisdom stamp'd upon my face.
Then look their tickets for the show,

Whene'er to visit light I deign, And got by chance the forenost row.

What flocks of fowl compose my

train! To see their grave, observing face,

Like slaves, they crowd my flight behind, Provok'd a laugh through all the place. And own me of superior kind.

Brother, says Pug, and turn d his head, The Farmer laugh'd, and thus replied: The rabble 's monstrously ill-bred!

Thou dull important lump of pride, Now through the booth loud hisses ran; Dar'st thou, with that harsh grating tongien Nor ended till the show began.

Depreciate birds of warbling song? The tumbler whirls the flip-flap round, Indulge thy spleen. Know, men and fowl With somersets he shakes the ground; Regard thee as thou art, an Owl. The cord beneath the dancer springs; Besides proud blockhead, be not vain Aloft in air the vaulter swings;

Of what thou call'st thy slaves and train, Distorted now, now prone depends,

Few follow wisdom, or her rules; Now through his twisted arm ascends : Fools in derision follow fools, The crowd in wonder and delight, With clapping hands applaud the sight. With smiles, quoth Pug, If pranks like these A JUGGLER long through all the town

§ 139.' FABLE XLII. . The Jugglers. The giant apes of reason please,

Had rais'd his fortune and renown: How would they wonder at our arts !

You 'd think (so far his art transcends) They must adore us for our parts.

The devil at his fingers' ends. High on the twig I 've seen you cling,

Vice heard his fame, she read his bill; Play, twist, and turn in airy ring;

Convinc'd of his inferior skill, How can those clumsy things, like me,

She sought his booth, and fruen the crowd Fly with a bound froin tree to tree?

Defied the nian of art aloud : But yet, by this applause we find

Is this then he so fam'd for slight? These einulators of our kind

Can this slow bungler cheat your sight? Discern our worth, our parts regard,

Dares he with me dispute the prize? Who our mean mimics thus reward.

I leave it to impartial eyes. Brother, the grinning mate replies,

Provokid, the Juggler cried, 'Tis done ; In this I grant that man is wise.

In science I submit to none. While good example they pursue,

Thus said, the cups and balls he play'd, We must allow some praise is due ;

By turns this here, ihat there, convey'd ; But when they strain beyond their guide,

The cards, obedient to his words,
I laugh to scorn the mimic pride;
For how fantastic is the sight,

Are by a fillip turn'd to birds.

His little boxes change the grain ; To meet men always bolt upright,

Trick after trick deludes the train. Because we sometimes walk on two!

He shakes his bay, he shows all fair ; I hate the imitating crew.

His fingere spread, and nothing there ;

Then bids it rain with showers of gold: § 131. FABLE XLI. The Owl and the farmer. And now his iv'ry eggs are told; An Owl of grave deport and mien,

But when from thence the hen he draws, Who (like the Turk) was seldom seen, Amaz'd spectators hum applause. Within a barn had chose his station,

Vice now stepp'd forth, and took the place As fit for prey and contemplation.

With all the forms of his grimace. Upon a beam aloft he sits,

This majic looking-glass she cries, And 110ds, and seems to think; by fits. (There, hand it round) will charm your eyes. So have I seen a man of news

Each

eager eye the sight desir'd, Or Post-boy or Gazette peruse;

And ev'ry man himself admir'd.. Smoke, nod, and talk with voice profound, Next, to a senator addressing, And fix the fate of Europe round.

See this bank-note; observe the blessing, Sheaves pil'd on sheaves hid all the floor. Breathe on the bill. Heigh, pass! 'tis gone, At dawn of niorn, to view his store,

Upon his lips a padlock shone.. The Farmer came. The hooting guest A second puff the magic broke; His self-imporiance thus expressa :

The padlock vanishd, and he spoke.
Reason in man is'n
mere pretence:

Twelve bottles rangd upon the board,
How weak, how shallow is his sense! All full, with heady liquor stord,
To treat with scorn"the Bird of Night, By clean conveyance disappear,
Declares his folly. or his spite.

And now, two bloody swords are there.
Then ton, how partial is his praise !

А purse she to a thief expos'd; The lark's, the linnet's chirping lays,

At once his ready fingers clos'd. To his ill-judging ears are finc,

He

opes his fist, the treasure 's fled; And nightingales are all divine.

Ile sees a halter in its stead.

She She bids ambition hold a wand;

A gen'ral nod approv'd the cause, He grasps a hatchet in his hand.

And all the circle neigh'd applause. A box of charity she shows :

When lo! with grave and solemn pace, Blow here; and a church warden blows, A Steed advanc'd before the racc; Tis ranish'd with conveyance neat,

With age and long experience wise, And on the table şinokes a trcat.

Around he cast his thoughtful eyes ; She'shakes the dice, the board she knocks, And to the murmurs of the train, And from all pockets fills her box.

Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain : She next a meagre rake address'd:

When I had health and strength like you, This picture see; her shape, her breast ! The toils of servitude I knew; What youth, and what inviting ejez: Now grateful man rewards my pains, Hold her, and have her. With surprise. And gives me all these wide domains. His hand expos d a box of pills,

At will I crop the year's increase ; And a loud Laugh proclaim'd his ills.

My latter life is resi and peace. A counter in a miser's hand

I graut, to man we lend our pains, Grew twenty guineas at command.

And aid him to correct the plains : She bids his heir the sum retain,

But doth not he divide the care, And 'tis a counter now again.

Through all the labors of the year ? A guinea with her touch you see

How many thousand structures rise,
Take ev'ry shape, but Charity :

To fence us from inclement skies!
And not one thing you saw, or drew, For us he bears the sultry day,
But chang’d from what was first in view. And stores up all our winter's hay.

The Juggler now, in grief of heart, He sows, he reaps the harvest's grain ;
With this submission own'd her art :

We share the toil, and share the gain.
Can I such matchless slight withstand ? Since ev'ry creature was decrced
How practise hath improv'd your hand! To aid each other's mutual need,
But now and then I cheat the throng; Appease your discontented mind,
You ev'ry day, and all day long.

And act the part by Heaven assign'd.

The tumult ceas'd. The Colt submitted ; $ 133. FABLE XLIII. The Council of forses. And, like his ancestors, was bitted. Uron a time, a neighing Steed, Who graz’d among a numerous breed,

The Hound and the With mutiny had fir'd the train,

Huntsman.
And spread dissension through the plain.
On matters that concern'd the state

IMPERTINENCE at first is borne
The council met in grand debate.

With heedless slight, or smiles of scorn ;
A Colt, whose eye-balls Aam'd with ire, Teas'd into wrath, what patience bears
Elate with strength and youthful fire, The noisy fool who perseveres ?
In haste stepp'd forth before the rest,

The morning wakes, the Huntsman soundi, And thus the list'ning throng address'd : At once rush forth the joyful hounds.

Good gods ! how abject is our race, They seek the wood with cager pace; Condema'd to slav'ry and disgrace !

Thro' bush, thro' brier, explore ihe chace. Shall our servitude retain,

Now, scatter'd wide, they try the plain, Because our sires have borne the chain ? And snuff the dewy turf in vain. Consider, friends, your strength and might; What care, what industry, what pains ! Tis conquest to assert your right.

What universal silence reigns ! How cumbrous is the gilded coach!

Ringwood, a dog of little fame, The pride of man is our reproach.

Young, pert, and ignorant of game,
Were we design d for daily toil,

At once displays his babbling throat;
To drag the plough-share ilfrough the soil, The pack, regardless of the note,
To sweat in harness through the road, Parsue the scent; with louder strain
To groen beneath the carrier's load?

He still persists to vex the train.
How feeble are the two-legg'd kiad !

The Huntsman to the clamor flies ; What force is in our nerves combin'd! The smacking lash he smartly plies. Shall then our nobler jaws submit

His ribs all welk'd, with howling tone: To foam and champ the galling bit?

The Puppy, thus express'd his moan: Shall baaghty man my back bestride?

I know the music of my tongue" Shall the sharp spur provoke my side? Long since the pack with envy stung. Forbid it, Heaveos ! Reject the rein;

What will not spite? These bitter smarta Your shame, your infamy disdain,

I owe to my superior parts. Let him the lion first control,

When puppies praie, the Huntsman cried, And still the tiger's fatish'd growl.

They show both ignorance and pride; Let us, like them, our freedom claim, Fools may our scorn, not envy raise ; And make him tromble at our name.

For any is a kind of praise.

Had

§ 134.

FABLE XLIV.

we

Had not thy forward noisy tongue

A village.cur, of snappish race, Proclaim'd thee always in the wrong,

The pertest Puppy of the place, Thou might'st have mingled with the rest; Imagin'd that his treble throat and ne'er ihy foolish noise confess'd.

Was blest with music's sweetest note; But fools, w talking ever prone,

In the mid road he basking lay, Are sure to make their follies known:

The yelping nuisance of the way;

For not a creature puss'd along, $ 135. TABLE XLV. The Poet and the Rose. But had a sample of his song. I hate the man who builds his name

Soon as the trotting steed he hears, On ruins of another's fame.

He stirts, he cocks his dapper ears ; Thus prudes by characters v'erthrown

Away he scours, assaults his hoof; Imagine that they raise their own.

Now near him snarls, now barks aloof; Thus scribblers, covetous of praise,

With shrill impertinence attends; Think slander can transplant the bays.

Nor leaves him till the village ends. Beauties and bards have equal pride :

It chanc'd, upon his evil day, With both all rivals are decried.

A Pil came pacing down the way : Who praises Lesbia's eyes and feature,

The cur, with never-ceasing tongue, Alust call her sister awkward creature;

(pon the passing trav‘ller sprung. For the kiud flattery's sure to charm,

The Horse, from scorn prosok'd to ire, When we some other nymph disarın..

Flung backward : rolling in the mire As in the cool of early day

The Putipy howld, and bleeding lay ; A Poet sought the swects of May,

The Pad in peace pursued his way. The garden's fragrant breath ascends,

A Shepherd's Dog, who saw the deed, And ev'ry stalk with odor bends.

Detesting the vexatious breed, A Rose he pluck d, he gaz d, admir'd,

Bespoke him thus : When coxcombs prate, Thus singing, as the Muse inspir’d:

They kindle wrath, contempt, or hate; Go, Rose, ny Chloe's bosom grace:

Thy' teasing tongue had judgement tied,
How happy should I prove,

Thou had'st not like a Puppy died.
Might I supply that envied place
With never-fading love !

§ 137. FABLE XLVI. The Court of Deatk. There, Phoenix-like, beneath her eye, DEATH, on a solemn night of state, Involved in fragrance, burn and die!

In all his pomp of terror fate : know, hapless flow's, that thou shalt find Th' attendants of his gloomy reign, More fragrant roses there;

Diseases dire, a ghastly train! I see thy with’ring head reclin'd

Crowd the vast Court. With hollow tone, With envy and despair!

Avoice thus thunder'd from the throne; One common fate we both must prove;

This night our minister we oame, Yon die with envy, I with love.

Let ev'ry servant speak his claim; Spare your comparisons, replied

Merit shall bear this ebon wand. An angry Rose who grew beside,

All, at the word, stretch'd forth their hand. Of all rankind you should not tlout us ;

Fever, with burning heat possest, What can a Poet do without us:

Advanced, and for the wand address'd: In ev'ry love-song roses blooin;

I to the weekly bills appeal, We lend yon color and perfume.

Let those express my fervent zeal; Does it to Chloe's charms conduco,

On ev'ry slight occasion near, To found her praise on our abuse?

With violence I persevere. Must we, to flatter her, be made

Next Gout appears, with limping pace, To wither, envy, pine, and fade?

Pleads how he shifts from place to place;,
From head to foot how swift he fies,

And ey'ry joint and sinew plies; $ 136. FABLE XLVI. The Cur, the llorse, and Still working when he seems supprest. the Shepherd's Dog.

A most tenacious stubborn guest. The land of all sufficient merit

A haggard Spexre from the crew With modesty ne'er danps his spirit;

Crawls forih, and thus asserts his due:. Presuming on his own deserts,

"Tis I who taint the sweetest joy, On all alike his tongue exerts ;

And in the shape of Love destroy: His noisy jokes at random throw's,

My shanks, sunk eyes, and noseless face, And pertly spatters friends and foes.

Prove my pretention to the place. In wit and war the bully race

Stone iug'd his ever-growing force; Contribute to their own disgrace.

And next Consumption's meayre corse, Too late the forward gouth shall find

With feeble voice that scarce was hearel, That jokes are sometimes paid in kind; Broke with short coughs, his suit preferr'd: Or, if they canker in the breast,

Let none object my ling'ring way, He makes a fue who makes a jest.

Again, like Fabius, by delay i

Fatigue Fatigue and weaken ev'ry foe

At this the Gard'ner's passion grows; By long attack --- secure, though slow.

From oaths and threats he tell to blows. “Plague represents his rapid pow's,

The stubborn brute the blow's sustains,
Who thinn'd a pation in an hour.

Assaults his leg, and tears his veins.
All spoke their claim, and hop'd the wand. Ah, foolish swain! too late you find,
Now expectation hush'd the band,

That sties were for such friends design'd.
When thus the monarch from the throne : Homeward he limps with paintul pace,
Merit was ever modest known.

Reflecting thus on past disgrace. What, no Physician speaks his right?

Who cherishes a brutal mate Kone bere ! but fees their toils requite. Shall mourn the fully soon or late. Let then Intemp'rance take the wand, Who fills with gold their zenlous hand. $ 139. FABLE XLIX. The Man and the Fica, You Fever, Gout, and all the rest,

Whether in earth, in air, or main, Whom wary men as foes detest.

Sure ev'ry thing alive is vain! Forego your claim; no more pretend ;

Does not the hawk all fowls surrey Intemp'rance is esteem'd a friend ;

As destin'd only for his prey? He shares their mirth, their social joys,

And do not tyrants, pruuder things, And as a courted guest destroys.

Think men were boru for slaves to kings! The charge on hini inust justly fall,

When the crab, views the pearly strands, Who finds employment for you all.

Or Tagus, bright with golden sands;

Or crawls beside the coral grove, $ 139. FABLE XLVIII. The Gardenes and the llog. And hears the occan roll above; A GARD'NER of peculiar taste

Nature is too profuse, says he, On a young Hog his favor plac'd,

Who gave all these to pleasure me! Hho fed not with the common herd;

When burų'ring pinks aud roses bloor, His tray was to the hall preferr’d,

And ev'ry garden breathes perfumne; He wallowd underneath the boards,

When peaches glow with sunny dyes, Or in his master's chamber snor'd;

Like Laura's cheek when bluslies rise ; Who fondly strok'd him ev'sy day,

When with huge figs the branches bend, And taughi him all the puppy's play.

When clusters from the vine depend; Where'er he went, the grunting friend The snail looks round on flow'r and tree, We'er fail'd his pleasure to attend.

And cries, All these were made for nie! As on a time the loving pair

What dignity's in human nature ! Walk'd forth to tend the garden's cate, Says Man, the most conceited creature, The Master thus adolress'd the Swine :

As from a clift he cast his eyes, My house, my garden, all is thine ;

And view'd the sea and archal skies : On turnips feast whene'er you please, The sun was sunk beneath the main ; And riot in my beans and pease ;

The moon and all the starry train, If the potatoe's taste delights,

Hung the vast vault of heaven, The Man Or the red carrot's sweet invites,

llis contemplation thus began : Indulge tly morn and er’ning hours,

When I behold this glorious show, But let due care regard my flow'rs,

And this wide wat'ry world below,
My tulips are my garden's pride,

The scaly people of the inain,
What vast expence those beds supplied ! The beasts that range the wood or plain,,
The Hog, by chance, one morning roam'd The wing'd inhabitants of air,
Where with new ale the vessels fonsa'd: The day, the night, the various gear,
He munches now the streaming grains; And know all these by Heaven design'd
Now with full swill the liquor drains. As gifts to pleasure human kind;
Intoxicating fumes arise ;

I cannot raise my worth too high:
He reels, he rolls his winking eyes;

Of what vast consequence ai f!
Then, stäggʻring, through the garden scours, Not of th' iinportance you suppose,,
And treads down painted ranks of flow'rs. Replies a Flea

upon

his nose: With delring shout he turns the soil,

Be humble, learn thyself to sean ; And cools his palate with the spoil.

Know, pride was never made for Man. The Master came, the ruin spied ;

'Tis vanity that swells thy mind, Villain, suspend thy rage! lie crics :

What heaven and earth for thec design'd! Hast thou, ihou most ungrateful sot!

For thee made only for our need, My charge, iny only charge forgot?

That more imporiant Fleas might feed. M'hat, all int flow'rs! No more be said, Baul gazd, and sigh'd, and hung his head. $ 140. FÀBLE L. The Ilare and many Biends. The llog with stutt'ring speech returns,

FRIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name, Explain, Sir, why your anger burns,

Unless to one you stint the flame. Scé there, untouchd, your tulip, sticla,

The child, whom many fathers share, For i devour'd the roots alone.

Hath seldom snowti a father's carea

:

Tis thus in friendship; who depend Where Fortune smiles; the wretched he forOn many, rarely find a friend.

sakes : A Hare, who in a civil way

Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, Complied with ev'ry thing, líke Gay,

And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. Was known by all the bestial train

From short (as usual) and disturbid repose Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain, I wake : How happy they who wake no more! Her care was, never to offend;

Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave. And ev'ry creature was her friend.

I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams As forih she went, at early dawn,

Tumultuous ; where my wreck'd, desponding To taste the dew, besprinkled lawn,

thought, Behind she hears the hunter's cries,

From wave to wave of fancy'd misery And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies: At random drove, her helm of reason lost : She starts, she stops, she pants for breath ; Tho' now restor'd, 'tis only change of pain, She hears the near advance of death ;

A bitter change; severer for severe : She doubles to mislead the hound,

The day too short for my distress! and night And measures back her mazy round;

Ev'n in the zenith other dark domain,
Till, fainting in the public way,

Is sunshine, to the color of my fate.
Half dead with fear she gasping lay.
What transport in her bosom grew,

142. Night. When first the Horse appear'd in view!

Night, sable goddess ! from her ebon throne, Let me, says she, your back ascend, And owe my safely to a friend.

In rayless majesty, now stretches forth You know my feet betray my fight :

Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumb'ring world: To friendship ev'ry burthen's light.

Silence, how dead! and darkness, how profound! The Horse replied, Poor honest Puss!

Norleye, nor list'ning ear an object finds;

Creation sleeps. "Tis as the general pulse It grieves my heart to see thee thus :

Of life stood still, and nature made a pause ; Be comforted, relief is near ; For all your friends are in the rear,

An awful pause, prophetic of her end. She next the sately Bull implor'd,

And let her prophecy be soon fulfilld: And thus replied the mighty lord :

Fate ! drop the curtain : I can lose no more. Since every beast alive can tell That I sincerely wish you well,

§ 143. Invocation to Silence and Darkness. I may, without offence, pretend

Silence and Darkness! solemn sisters ! twins To take the freedom of a friend.

From antient Night, who nurse the lender Love calls me hence; a fav’rite cow

thought Expects me near you barley-mow;

To reason, and on reason build resolve, And when a lady's in the case,

(That column of true niajesty in man) Tou know all other things give place. Assist ine : I will thank you in the grave; To leave you thus might seem unkind; The grave, your kingdom: There this frame But see, the Goat is just behind.

shall fall The Goat remark'ü her pulse was high, A victim sacred to your dreary shrine: Her languid head, her heavy eye;

But what are ye? Thou who didst put to flight My back, says he, may do you harm; Primeval Silence, when the morning stars The Sheep 's at hand, and wool is warm. Exulting, shouted o'er the rising ball; The Sheep was feeble, and complain'd O Thou! whose word from solid darkness struck His sides a load of wool sustain'd:

That spark, thesun; strike wisdom from my soul. Said he was slow, confess'd his fears ;

My soul which flies to thee, her trust, her treasure, For hounds eat Sheep as well as Hares. As misers to their gold, while others rest. She now the trotting Calf address'd,

Thro' this opaque of nature, and of soul, To save from death a friend distress'd. This double night, transinit one pitying ray, Shall I, says he, of tender age,

To lighten and to chcer : O lead iny mind, In this important care engage?

(A mind that fain would wander from its woe) Older and abler pass'd you by :

Lead it thro' various scenes of Life and Death, How strong are those ! how weak am I! And from each scene, the noblest truths inspire Should I presunie to bear you hence,

Nor less inspire my conduct than my song; Those friends of mine may take offence. Nor let the vial of thy vengeance, pour d Excuse me, thon. You know my heart, On this devoted head, be pour'd in vain. But dearest friends, alas ! must part. How shall we all lament! Adieu !

$144. Time. For, sec, the hounds are just in view.

The bell strikes one: We take no note of time, YOUNG's NIGHT-THOUGHTS. But from its loss. To give it then a tongue, § 141. NIGHT 1. Sleep.

Is wise in man. As if an ángel spoke, Tir'd Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep! I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, He, like the world, his ready visit pays It is the knell of my departed hours;

Where

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