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"Tis I entice him to the yoke; By me, your crowded altars smoke : or mortals boldly dare the noofe, ecure that Death will set them loose,

HE

WH

FABLE V.

POET

AND HIS PATRON.

HY, Celia, is your spreading waist
So loofe, fo negligently lac'd?

Why muft the wrapping bed-gown hide
Your fnowy bofom's fwelling pride?
How ill that drefs adorns your head,
Diftain'd, and rumpled from the bed!

Those clouds, that shade your blooming face,
A little water might difplace,

As nature every morn bestows

The cryftal dew, to cleanse the rose.
Thofe treffes, as the raven black,
That wav'd in ringlets down your back,
Uncomb'd, and injur'd by neglect,
Destroy the face, which once they deck'd.
Whence this forgetfulness of dress ?
Pray, madam, are you marry'd? Yes.
Nay, then indeed the wonder ceases,
No matter now how loose your dress is;
The end is won, your fortune's made,
Your fifter now may take the trade.

Alas! what pity 'tis to find
This fault in half the female kind!
From hence proceed averfion, ftrife,
And all that fours the wedded life.
Beauty can only point the dart,
'Tis neatnefs guides it to the heart;
Let neatnefs then, and beauty strive
To keep a wav'ring flame alive.

'Tis harder far (you'll find it true)
To keep the conqueft, than fubdue;
Admit us once behind the screen,
What is there farther to be feen?
A newer face may raise the flame,
But every woman is the fame.

Then ftudy chiefly to improve

The charm, that fix'd your hufband's love,
Weigh well his humour. Was it dress
That gave your beauty power to bless?
Purfue it ftill; be neater feen;
'Tis always frugal to be clean;
So fhall you keep alive defire,

And time's fwift wing fhall fan the fire.

IN garret high (as stories say)
A Poet fung his tuneful lay;
So foft, fo fmooth his verfe, you'd swear
Apollo, and the mufes there.

Through all the town his praises rung,
His fonnets at the playhoufe fung;
High waving o'er his lab'ring head,
The goddess Want her pinions spread,
And with poetic fury fir'd,
What Phoebus faintly had infpir'd.

A noble Youth, of tafte and wit,
Approv'd the fprightly things he writ,
And fought him in his cobweb dome,
Difcharg'd his rent, and brought him home,
Behold him at the stately board,
Who, but the Poet, and my Lord!

Each day deliciously he dines,

And greedy quaffs the gen'rous wines;
His fides were plump, his skin was fleek,
And plenty wanton'd on his cheek;
Aftonifh'd at the change so new,
Away th' infpiring goddess flew.

Now, dropt for politics, and news,
Neglected lay the drooping mufe;
Unmindful whence his fortune came,
He ftifled the poetic flame;
Nor tale, nor fonnet, for my lady,
Lampoon, nor epigram was ready.

With juft contempt his Patron faw,
(Refolv'd his bounty to withdraw)
And thus, with anger in his look,
The late-repenting fool bespoke.

Blind to the good that courts thee grown, Whence has the fun of favour fhone? Delighted with thy tuneful art, Efteem was growing in my heart; But idly thou reject'ft the charm, That gave it birth, and kept it warm, Unthinking fools alone defpife

The arts, that taught them first to rise.

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A WOLF, rapacious, rough and bold, Whofe nightly plunders thinn'd the fold, Contemplating his ill-fpent life,

And cloy'd with thefts, would take a wife,
His purpose known, the favage race,
In num'rous crowds, attend the place;
For why, a mighty Wolf he was,
And held dominion in his jaws.

Her fav'rite whelp each mother brought,
And humbly his alliance fought;
But cold by age, or elfe too nice,
None found acceptance in his eyes.
It happen'd, as at early dawn,
He folitary crofs'd the lawn,
Stray'd from the fold, a sportive Lamb
Skip'd wanton by her fleecy Dam;
When Cupid, foe to man and beast,
Difcharg'd an arrow at his breast.

The tim'rous breed the robber knew,
And trembling o'er the meadow flew ;
Their nimbleft fpeed the Wolf o'ertook,
And courteous, thus the Dam bespoke.
Stay, faireft, and fufpend your fear
Truft me, no enemy is near
ari

Thefe jaws, in flaughter oft imbru'd,
At length have known enough of blood;
And kinder bufinefs brings me now,
Vanquish'd, at beauty's feet to bow.
You have a daughter-Sweet, forgive
A Wolf's addrefs-In her I live;
Love from her eyes like lightning came,
And fet my marrow all on flame;
Let your confent confirm my choice,
And ratify our nuptial joys.

Me ample wealth, and pow'r attend,
Wide o'er the plains my realms extend;
What midnight robber dare invade
The fold, if I the guard am made?
At home the fhepherd's cur may fleep,
While I fecure his master's fheep.

Difcourfe like this, attention claim'd; Grandeur the mother's breast inflam'd; Now fearless by his fide the walk'd, Of fettlements, and jointures talk'd; Propos'd, and doubled her demands Of flow'ry fields, and turnip-lands. The Wolf agrees. Her bofom fwells; To Mifs her happy fate she tells; And of the grand alliance vain, Contemns her kindred of the plain.

The loathing Lamb with horror hears, And wearies out her Dam with pray'rs ; But all in vain; mamma best knew What inexperienc'd girls fhould do; So, to the neighb'ring meadow carry'd, A formal Afs the couple marry'd.

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Torn from the tyrant-mother's fide, The trembler goes, a victim-bride, Reluctant, meets the rude embrace, And bleats among the howling race. With horror oft her eyes behold Her murder'd kindred of the fold; Each day a fifter-lamb is ferv'd, And at the glutton's table carv'd; The crashing bones he grinds for food, And flakes his thirst with streaming blood. Love, who the cruel mind detefts, And lodges but in gentle breasts, Was now no more. Enjoyment past, The favage hunger'd for the feaft; But (as we find in human race, A mask conceals the villain's face) Juftice muft authorize the treat; Till then he long'd, but durft not eat.

As forth he walk'd, in queft of prey,
The hunters met him on the way;
Fear wings his flight; the marsh he fought;
The fnuffing dogs are fet at fault.

His ftomach baulk'd, now hunger gnaws
Howling, he grinds his empty jaws;
Food must be had, and lamb is nigh;
His maw invokes the fraudful lie.
Is this (diffembling rage, he cry'd).
The gentle virtue of a bride?

That, leagu'd with man's destroying race
She fets her husband for the chace?
By treach'ry prompts the noify hound
To fcent his footsteps on the ground?
Thou trait'refs vile! for this thy blood
Shall glut my rage, and dye the wood
So faying, on the Lamb he flies,
Beneath his jaws the victim dies,

I

FABLE VII.

THE GOOSE, AND THE SWANS

HATE the face, however fair,
That carries an affected air;
The lifping tone, the shape constrain❜d,
The study'd look, the paffion feign'd,
Are fopperies, which only tend
To injure what they strive to mend.

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With what fuperior grace enchants
The face, which Nature's pencil paints!
Where eyes, unexercis'd in art,
Glow with the meaning of the heart!
Where freedom, and good-humour fit,
And eafy gaiety, and wit!
Though perfect beauty be not there,
The mafter lines, the finish'd air,
We catch from every look delight,
And grow enamour'd at the fight:
For beauty, though we all approve,
Excites our wonder more than love,
While the agreeable ftrikes fure,
And gives the wounds, we cannot cure.
Why then, my Amoret, this care,
That forms you, in effect, less fair?
If nature on your cheek bestows
A bloom, that emulates the rofe,
Or from fome heav'nly image drew
A form, Apelles never knew,
Your ill-judg'd aid will you impart,
And spoil by meretricious art?
Or had you, nature's error, come
Abortive from the mother's womb,
Your forming care the ftill rejects,
Which only heightens her defects.
When fuch, of glitt'ring jewels proud,
Still prefs the foremost in the crowd,
At every public fhow are seen,

With look awry, and aukward mien,
The gaudy drefs attracts the eye,
And magnifies deformity.

Nature may under-do her part,
But feldom wants the help of art;
Truft Her; fhe is your fureft friend,
Nor made your form for you to mend.

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

Says fhe, I laugh at human race,
Who fay, geefe hobble in their pace;
Look here! the fland'rous lie detect;
Not haughty man is so erect.

That peacock yonder! lord, how vain
The creature's of his gaudy train !
If both were ftript, I'd pawn my word,
A goofe would be the finer bird.
Nature, to hide her own defects,
Her bungled work with finery decks;
Were geese set off with half that show,
Would men admire the peacock? No.

Thus vaunting, crofs the mead the stalks,
The cackling breed attend her walks ;
The fun fhot down his noon-tide beams,
The Swans were sporting in the streams;
Their fnowy plumes, and ftately pride
Provok'd her spleen. Why there, the cry'd,

Again, what arrogance we fee!
Those creatures! how they mimic me!
Shall every fowl the waters skim,
Because we geese are known to swim?
Humility they foon fhall learn,
And their own emptiness difcern.

So faying, with extended wings,
Lightly upon the wave the fprings;
Her bofom fwells, the fpreads her plumes,
And the fwan's ftately creft affumes.
Contempt, and Mockery enfu'd,

And burfts of laughter fhook the flood.
A Swan, fuperior to the rest,
Sprung forth, and thus the fool address'd,
Conceited thing, elate with pride!
Thy affectation all deride;
Thefe airs thy aukwardness impart,
And fhew thee plainly, as thou art.
Among thy equals of the flock,
Thou hadst efcap'd the public mock,
And as thy parts to good conduce,
Been deem'd an honeft hobbling goofe.
Learn hence, to ftudy wisdom's rules;
Know, foppery's the pride of fools;
And striving nature to conceal,
You only her defects reveal,

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The bounteous God of nature made
The fexes for each other's aid,
Their mutual talents to employ,
To leffen ills, and heighten joy.
To weaker woman he affign'd
That foft'ning gentleness of mind,
That can, by fympathy, impart
Its likeness to the roughest heart.
Her eyes with magic pow'r endu❜d,
To fire the dull, and awe the rude.
His rofy fingers on her face

Shed lavish every blooming grace,
And stamp'd (perfection to display)
His mildeft image on her clay.

Man, active, refolute, and bold,
He fashion'd in a different mould,
With useful arts his mind inform'd,
His breast with nobler paffions warm'd;
He gave him knowledge, taste and sense,
And courage, for the fair's defence.
Her frame, refiftlefs to each wrong,
Demands protection from the strong;
To man fhe flies, when fear alarms,
And claims the temple of his arms.

By nature's author thus declar'd The woman's fov'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 foft defire, Lights up a wild-fire in the heart,

And to its own breast points the dart,

Becomes the fpoiler's base pretence
To triumph over innocence?

The wolf, that tears the tim'rous sheep,
Was never fet the fold to keep;
Nor was the tyger, or the pard
Meant the benighted trav❜ler's guard;
But man, the wildest beast of prey,
Wears friendship's femblance, to betray;
His ftrength against the weak employs,
And where he should protect, destroys.

PAST twelve o'clock, the watchman cry'd, His brief the ftudious lawyer ply'd; The all-prevailing fee lay nigh, The earnest of to-morrow's lie. Sudden the furious winds arife, The jarring cafement shatter'd flies; The doors admit a hollow found, And rattling from their hinges bound; When Juftice, in a blaze of light, Reveal'd her radiant form to fight.

The wretch with thrilling horror shook, Loose every joint, and pale his look; Not having feen her in the courts, Or found her mention'd in Reports, He afk'd, with falt'ring tongue, her name, Her errand there, and whence the came ? Sternly the white-rob'd Shade reply'd, (A crimson glow her vifage dy'd) Canft thou be doubtful who I am? Is Juftice grown so strange a name? Were not your courts for Juftice rais'd? 'Twas there, of old, my altars blaz'd. My guardian thee did I elect,

My facred temple to protect,

That thou, and all thy venal tribe

Should fpurn the goddess for the bribe?

Aloud the ruin'd client cries,

Juftice has neither ears, nor eyes;

In foul alliance with the bar,

'Gainst me the judge denounces war, And rarely iffues his decree,

But with intent to baffle me.

She paus'd. Her breast with fury burn'd,

The trembling Lawyer thus return'd.

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

The gown-tan, skill'd in Romish lies,
By faith's falfe glass deludes our eyes;
O'er confcience rides without controul,
And robs the man to fave his foul.

The doctor, with important face,
By fly defign, mistakes the cafe ;
Prefcribes, and spins out the disease,
To trick the patient of his fees.

The foldier, rough with many a scar,
And red with flaughter, leads the war ;
If he a nation's truft betray,
The foe has offer'd double pay.

When vice o'er all mankind prevails,
And weighty int'reft turns the scales,
Must I be better than the reft,
And harbour Juftice in my breast ?
On one fide only take the fee,
Content with poverty and thee?

Thou blind to fenfe, and vile of mind,

Th' exafperated Shade rejoin'd,

If virtue from the world is flown,
Will others' frauds excufe thy own?
For fickly fouls the priest was made;
Phyficians, for the body's aid;
The foldier guarded liberty;
Man woman, and the lawyer me.
If all are faithless to their truft,
They leave not thee the lefs unjust.
Henceforth your pleadings I disclaim,
And bar the fanction of my name;
Within your courts it shall be read,
That Juftice from the law is filed.

She spoke; and hid in shades her face, "Till HARDWICKE footh'd her into grace.

WHY

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THE FARMER, THE SPANIEL, AND THE CAT.
knits my dear her angry brow?
What rude offence alarms you now?
I faid, that Delia's fair, 'tis true,
But did I fay fhe equall'd you?
Can't I another's face commend,
Or to her virtues be a friend,
But inftantly your forehead lours,
As if her merit leffen'd yours?
From female envy never free,
All must be blind, because you see.

Survey the gardens, fields, and bow'rs,
The buds, the bloffoms, and the flow'rs,
Then tell me where the woodbine grows,
That vies in sweetness with the rofe?
Or where the lily's fnowy white,
That throws fuch beauties on the fight?
Yet folly is it to declare,

That these are neither sweet, nor fair.
The crystal shines with fainter rays,
Before the di'mond's brighter blaze;
And fops will fay, the di'mond dies,
Before the luftre of your eyes:
But I, who deal in truth, deny
That neither shine when you are by.

When zephirs o'er the biossoms stray,
And sweets along the air convey,
Sha'n't I the fragrant breeze inhale,
Because you breathe a sweeter gale?

Sweet are the flow'rs, that deck the field;
Sweet is the smell the bloffoms yield;
Sweet is the fummer gale that blows;
And fweet, tho' fweeter you, the rofe.

Shall envy then torment your breast,
If you are lovelier than the reft?
For while I give to each her due,
By praifing them I flatter you;
And praifing moft, I ftill declare
You faireft, where the reft are fair.

AS at his board a farmer fate, Replenish'd by his homely treat, His fav'rite Spaniel near him ftood, And with his mafter thar'd the food; The crackling bones his jaws devour'd, His lapping tongue the trenchers scour'd; Till fated now, fupine he lay, And fnor'd the rifing fumes away.

The hungry cat in turn, drew near,
And humbly crav'd a fervant's share;
Her modest worth the Mafter knew,
And straight the fatt'ning morfel threw
Enrag'd the fnarling Cur awoke,
And thus, with spiteful envy, fpoke.
They only claim a right to eat,
Who earn by fervices their meat.
Me, zeal and industry inflame

To fcour the fields, and spring the game;
Or, plunging in the wintry wave,
For man the wounded bird to fave.
With watchful diligence I keep,
From prowling wolves, his fleecy sheep;
At home his midnight hours fecure,
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 fuch vile things as you?

I own (with meekness Pufs reply'd}
Superior merit on your fide;

Nor does my breaft with envy fwell,
To find it recompens'd fo well;
Yet I, in what my nature can,
Contribute to the good of man.
Whose claws destroy the pilf'ring mouse ?
Who drives the vermin from the house?
Or, watchful for the lab'ring fwain,
From lurking rats fecures the grain?
From hence, if he rewards bestow,
Why fhould your heart with gall o'erflow?
Why pine my happiness to fee,
Since there's enough for you and me?

Thy words are juft, the Farmer cry'd, And fpurn'd the fnarler from his fide.

THE

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HE nymph, who walks the public streets, And fets her cap at all the meets, May catch the fool who turns to stare, But men of fenfe avoid the fnare.

As on the margin of the flood,
With filken line, my Lydia stood,
I fmil'd to fee the pains you took,
To cover o'er the fraudful hook.
Along the foreft as we stray'd

You faw the boy his lime-twigs spread;
Guefs'd you the reafon of his fear,
Left, heedlefs, we approach'd too near?
For as behind the bush we lay,
The linnet flutter'd on the spray.

Needs there fuch caution to delude,
The fcaly fry, and feather'd brood?
And think you, with inferior art,
To captivate the human heart?

The maid, who modeftly conceals
Her beauties, while fhe hides, reveals.
Give but a glimpfe, and fancy draws
Whate'er the Grecian Venus was.
From Eve's firft fig-leaf to brocade,
All drefs was meant for fancy's aid,'

Which evermore delighted dwells
On what the bashful nymph conceals.
When Cælia ftruts in man's attire,
She fhews too much to raise defire;
But from the hoop's bewitching round,
Her very fhoe has power to wound.

The roving eye, the bofom bare,
The forward laugh, the wanton air,
May catch the fop; for gudgeons strike
At the bare hook, and bait, alike;
While falmon play regardless by,.
"Till art, like nature, forms the fly.

BENEATH a peafant's homely thatch,
A Spider long had held her watch;
From morn to night, with restless care,
She fpun her web, and wove her fnare.
Within the limits of her reign,
Lay many a heedlefs captive flain,
Or flutt'ring, struggled in the toils,
To burft the chains, and fhun her wiles.
A ftraying Bee, that perch'd hard by,
Beheld her with disdainful eye,

And thus began. Mean thing, give o'er,
And lay thy flender threads no more;
A thoughtless fly or two, at most,
Is all the conqueft thou canst boast;.
For bees of fenfe thy arts evade,
We see so plain the nets are laid.

The gaudy tulip, that displays
Her fpreading foliage to the gaze;
That points her charms at all she fees,
And yields to every wanton breeze,
Attracts not me: where blushing grows,
Guarded with thorns, the modeft rofe,
Enamour'd, round and round I fly,
Or on her fragrant bofom lie;
Reluctant, fhe my ardour meets,
And bashful, renders up her sweets.
To wiser heads attention lend,
And learn this leffon from a friend.
She, who with modefty retires,
Adds fewel to her lover's fires,
While fuch incautious jilts as you,
By folly your own schemes undo.

FABLE XI.

THE YOUNG LION, AND THE APE.

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IS true, I blame your lover's choice,
Though flatter'd by the public voice,
And peevish grow, and fick, to hear
His exclamations, O how fair!

I liften not to wild delights,
And transports of expected nights:
What is to me your hoard of charms?
The whiteness of your neck and arms?
Needs there no acquifition more,
To keep contention from the door?
Yes; pafs a fortnight, and you'll find,
All beauty cloys, but of the mind.

Senfe and good-humour ever prove
The fureft cords to faften love.
Yet, Phillis, fimpleft of your sex,
You never think but to perplex,

Coquetting it with every ape,

That ftruts abroad in human shape;
Not that the coxcomb is your taste,
But that it ftings your lover's breast :
To-morrow you refign the fway,
Prepar'd to honour, and obey,
The tyrant-mistress change for life,
To the fubmiffion of a wife.

Your follies, if you can, fufpend,
And learn inftruction from a friend.
Reluctant, hear the first address,
Think often, ere you anfwer, yes;
But once refolv'd, throw off disguise,
And wear your wishes in your eyes.
With caution every look forbear,
That might create one jealous fear,
A lover's ripening hopes confound,
Or give the gen'rous breast a wound.
Contemn the girlish arts to teaze,
Nor ufe your pow'r, unless to please ;
For fools alone with rigour fway,
When foon, or late, they must obey.

THE King of brutes, in life's decline, Refolv'd dominion to resign; The beafts were fummon'd to appear; And bend before the royal heir. They came; a day was fix'd; the crowdBefore their future monarch bow'd.

A dapper Monkey, pert and vain, Stepp'd forth, and thus addrefs'd the train. Why cringe my friends with slavish awe, Before this pageant king of straw? Shall we anticipate the hour, And ere we feel it, own his pow'r? The counfels of experience prize, I know the maxims of the wife; Subjection let us caft away, And live the monarchs of to-day; 'Tis ours the vacant hand to spurn, And play the tyrant each in turn. So fhall he right from wrong difcern, And mercy from oppreffion learn; At others' woes be taught to melt, And loath the ills himfelf has felt.

He spoke; his bofom fwell'd with pride: The youthful Lion thus reply'd.

What madness prompts thee to provoke My wrath, and dare th' impending stroke? Thou wretched fool! can wrongs impart Compaffion 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 haft drawn thy rules: To them return; in such a cause, From only fuch expect applause; The partial fex I not condemn, For liking thofe, who copy them.

Would't thou the gen'rous Lion bind, By kindness bribe him to be kind; Good offices their likeness get, And payment leffens not the debt; With multiplying hand he gives The good, from others he receives : Or for the bad makes fair return, And pays with int'reft, fcorn for fcorn.

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