That friend f yours you lately nam'd,
Cupid alone is to be blam'd;
Then let the charge be juftly laid:
That idle boy neglects his trade;
And hardly once in twenty years
A couple to your temple bears.

The wretches, whom your office blends,
Silenus now, or Piutus fends;
Hence care, and bitterness, and ftrife,
Are common to the nuptial life.

Believe me; more than all mankind
Your vot❜ries my compaffion find.
Yet cruel am I call'd, and bafe,
Who feek the wretched to release,
The captive from his bonds to free,
Indiffoluble but for me.

'Tis I entice him to the yoke;
By me your crowded altars smoke:
For mortals boldly dare the noose,
Secure that Death will fet them loofe.

$190. Fable V. The Poet and his Patron.
WHY, Calia, is your fpreading 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 rumpl'd from the bed!
Thofe clouds that fhade your blooming face,
A little water might difplace,
As Nature ev'ry, morn beftows
The cryftal dew to cleanfe the rofe.
Thofe traces, as the raven black,
That wav'd in ringlets down your back,
Uncomb'd, and injur❜d by neglect,
Deftroy the face which once they deck't.
Whence this forgetfulness of drefs?
Pray, Madam, are you marry'd ?—Yes.
Nay, then indeed the wonder ceafes,
No matter now how loofe your drefs 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 neatnels then and beauty ftrive
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 fcreen,
What is there farther to be feen?
A newer face may raife the flame;
But ev'ry woman is the fame.

Then ftudy chiefly to improve
The charm that fix'd your husband's love.
Weigh well his humour. Was it drefs
That gave your beauty pow'r to bless!
Purfue it till; 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 ftories fay) A Poct fung his tuneful lay;

So foft, fo fmooth his verfe, you'd fwear
Apollo and the Mufes there:
Thro' all the town his praises rung;
His fonnets at the playhoufe fung;
High waving o'er his lab'ring head,
The goddels Want her pinions spread,
And with poetic fury fir'd
What Phoebus faintly had infpir'd.

A noble youth of taste and wit,
Approv'd the sprightly 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 fkin was fleek,
And plenty wanton'd on his cheek;
Aftonifh'd at the change fo new,
Away th'infpiring goddefs flew.

Now, dropt for politics and news,
Neglected lay the drooping mufe,
Unmindful whence his fortune came,
He ftifl'd 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 befpoke:

Blind to the good that courts thee grown, Whence as 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 rife.

$191. Fable VI The Wolf, the Sheep, and the Lamb.

DUTY demands, the parent's voice

Should fanctify the daughter's choice;
In that is due obedience fhewn ;
To choose belongs to her alone.

May horror feize this midnight hour,
Who builds upon a parent's pow'r,
And claims, by purchase vile and base,
The loathing maid for his embrace;
Hence virtue fickens; and the breast,
Where peace had built her downy neft,
Becomes the troubl'd feat of care,
And pines with anguish and despair.

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

And clov'd with thefts, would take a wife,
His purpofe 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

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 fportive Lamb
Skipt wanton by her fleecy Dam;
When Cupid, foe to man and beaft,
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,
Trust me, no enemy is near;
Thefe jaws, in flaughter oft imbu'd,
At length have known enough of blood;
And kinder bus'nefs 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 light'ning 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 breaft inflam'd;
Now fearless by his fide fhe walk'd;
Of settlements and jointures talk'd;
Propos'd, and doubl'd her demands
Of How'ry fields and turnip-lands.
The Wolf agrees. Her bofom fwells;
To Mifs her happy fate the 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 unexperienc'd girls fhould do.
So to the neighb'ring meadow carry'd,
A formal afs the couple marry'd.

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 crafhing bones he grinds for food, And flakes his thirft with ftreaming blood. Love, who the cruel mind detefts, And lodges but in gentle breafts, 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 authorise 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 marfli 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 ly.
Is this (diffembling rage, he cry'd)
The gentle virtue of a bride?
That leagu'd with man's deftroying 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.

$192. Fable VII. The Goofe and the Swans,
HATE the face, however fair,
That carries an affected air;
The liping tone, the shape conftrain'd,
The ftudy'd look, the paffion feign'd,
Are fopperies, which only tend
To injure what they strive to mend.

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 matter lines, the finish'd air,
We catch from ev'ry 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 Ainoret, this care,
That forms you, in effect, lefs fair?
If nature on your cheek Leftows
A bloom that emulates the refe,
Or from fome heav'nly image drew
A for, Apelles never knew,
Your ill-judg'd aid will you impart,
And tpoil 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 ev'ry public fhew are feen,
With look awry, and aw ky and mien,
The gaudy dreis attracts the eye,
And magnifies deformity.

Nature may underdo her part,
But feldom wants the help of art;
Truft her, he is your furett friend,
Nor made your form for you to mend.
H 3
A Goofe,

A Goofe, affected, empty, vain, The thrillet of the cackling train, With proud and clevated creft, Precedence claim'd above the rest.

Says he, I laugh at human race,
Who fay geefe hobble in their pace;
Look here!-the fland'rous lye detect;
Not haughty man is fo 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 geefe fet off with half that show,
Would men admire the peacock? No.

Thus vaunting, cross the mead fhe ftalks,
The cackling breed attend her walks,
The fun fhot down his noon-tide beams,
The Swans were fporting in the ftreams;
Their fnowy plumes and ftately pride
Provok'd her fpleen. Why there, the cry'd,
Again what arrogance we fee !-

Thofe creatures! how they mimic me!
Shall ev'ry fowl the waters fkim,
Becaufe we geefe are known to fwim!
Humility they foon shall learn,
And their own emptinefs 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 reft,
Sprung forth, and thus the fool addreft :
Conceited thing, elate with pride !
Thy affectation all deride:
Thefe airs thy awkwardness impart,
And Thew thee plainly as thou art.
Among thy equals of the flock
Thou hadft efcap'd the public mock,
And as thy parts to good conduce,
Been deem'd an honeft hobbling goofe.

Learn hence to study wifdom's rules;
Know, foppery's the pride of fools;
And, ftriving nature to conceal,
You only her defects reveal.

$193. Fable VIII. The Lawyer and Juftice. LOVE! thou divineft good below!

Thy pure delights few mortals know;
Our rebel hearts thy fway difown,
While tyrant luft ufurps thy throne.
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 rougheft 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 ev'ry blooming grace,
And ftamp'd (perfection to difplay)
His mildeft image on her clay.

Man, active, refolute, and bold,
He fashion'd in a diff'rent mould;
With useful arts his mind inform'd,
His breaft with nobler paffions warm'd;
He gave him knowledge, tafte, and sense,
And courage, for the fair's defence.
Her frame, refiftless to each wrong,
Demands protection from the ftrong;
To man the 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 weaknefs 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 bafe 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'ller's guard;
But man, the wildest beaft of prey,
Wears friendship's femblance to betray;
His ftrength against the weak employs;
And, where he should protect, deftroys.

Paft 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 lyc. Sudden the furious winds arife, The jarring cafement fhatter'd flies; The doors admit a hollow found, And rattling from their hinges bound; When Juftice, in a blaze of light, Revcal'd her radiant form to fight.

The wretch with thrilling horror fhook;
Loofe every joint, and pale his look;
Not having feen her in the courts,
Or found her mention'd in reports,
He ask'd, with fault'ring tongue, her name,
Her errand there, and whence the came ?
Sternly the white-rob'd Shade reply'd
(A crimfon glow her vifage dy'd)

Canft thou be doubtful who I am?
Is Juftice grown fo ftrange a name?
Were not your courts for Justice rais'd?
'Twas there, of old, my altars blaz'd.
My guardian thee I did elect,

My facred temple to protect,

That thou and all thy venal tribe

Should fpurn the goddefs for the bribe.

Aloud the ruin'd client cries,

Juftice has neither cars nor eyes;
In foul alliance with the bar,

'Gainft 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 juftly laid,
And weak th'excufe that can be made;
Yet fearch the fpacious globe, and fee
If all mankind are not like ine.

The gown-man, fkill'd in Romish lyes,
By faith's falfe glafs 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 case;
Preferibes, and fpins out the difcafe,
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,
Muft 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 faults 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 difclaim,
And bar the fanction of my name;
Within your courts it shall be read,
That Juftice from the law is fied.

She spoke, and hid in fhades her face,
Till Hardwicke footh'd her into grace.

And fops will fay, the di'mond dies
Before the luftre of your eyes:
But I, who deal in truth, deny
That neither thine when you are by.
When zephyrs o'er the blossoms stray,
And fweets along the air convey,
Sha'n't I the fragrant breeze inhale,
Because you breathe a fweeter gale?

Sweet are the flow'rs that deck the field;
Sweet is the finell 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 still 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 fhar'd the food The crackling bones his jaws devour'd, His lapping tongue the trenchers fcour'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 fhare;
Her modeft worth the mafter knew,
And ftraight the fatt'ning morfel threw :
Enrag'd, the fnarling Cur awoke,
And thus, with foiteful envy, froke:
They only claim a right to eat,
Who earn by fervices their meat;
Me, zeal and industry inflame

To fcour the fields, and fpring the game;
Or, plunged in the wint'ry wave,
For man the wounded bird to fave.
With watchful diligence I keep
From prowling wolves his firecy sheep;
At home his midnight hours tecure,
And drive the robber from the door;

and the Cat.

WHY knits my dear her

brow?

angry What rude offence alarms you now?

I faid that Delia's fair, 'tis true;

But did I fay the equall'd you!
Can't I another's face cominend,
Or to her virtues be a friend,
But inftantly your forehead lours,
As if her merit leffen'd your's?
From female envy never free;
All must be blind because you fee.

Survey the gardens, fields, and bow'rs,
The buds, the bloffoins, and the flow'rs,
Then tell me where the woodbine grows
That vies in fweetness 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 fhines with fainter rays
Before the di'mond's brighter blaze;

For this, his hand the food bestows;
And fhall 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 meeknefs, 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.
Whofe claws deftroy the pilf'ring moufe?
Who drives the vermin from the houfe?
Or, watchful for the lab'ring fwain,
From lurking rats fecures the grain?
From hence, if he rewards beftow,
Why should 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 fharler from his fide.

H 4

Fable

§ 195. Fable X. The Spider and the Bee. THE 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 ftood,
I fimil'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 fpread;
Guefs'd you the reafon of his fear,
Left, heedlefs, we approach too near?
For as behind the bush we lay,
The linnet flutter'd on the fpray.

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 the hides, reveals.
Give but a glimpfe, and fancy draws
Whate'er the Grecian Venus was.
From Eve's first fig-leaf to brocade,
All drefs was meant for fancy's aid;
Which evermore delighted divells
On what the bashful nymph conceals.

When Celia ftruts in man's attire,
She fhews too much to raise defire;
But from the hoop's bewitching round, 15
Her very fhoe has pow'r to wound.

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

Beneath a peafant s homy thatch
A Spider long had held her watch;
From morn to night, with reitless care,
She fpun her web, and wove her fnare.
Within the limits of her reign
Lay many a heedlet captive flain,
Or flutt'ring, ftruggl'd in the toils,
To burft the chains, and thun her wiles.

A ftraying Bee, that perch'd hard by,
Beheld her with difainful eye,
And thus began: Mean thing, give o'er,
And lay thy flender threads no more;
A thoughtiis fly or two, at most,
Is all the quest thou canst boaft;
For bees of trafe thy arts evade ;
We fee fo plain the nets are laid.

The gaudy tulip, that difplays
Her fpreading foliage to gaze;
That points her charms at all the fees,
And yields to ev'ry wanton breeze,
Attracts not me; where blufhing grows,
Guarded with thorns the modeft rofe,
Enamour'd, round and round I fly,
Or on her fragrant bofom lie;
Reluctant they ardour meets,
And bashful renders to her fweets.

To wifer heads attention lend,
And learn this leffon from a friend :

She who with modesty retires, Adds fuel to her lover's fires, While fuch incautious jilts as you, By folly your own schemes undo.

§ 196. Fable XI. The Young Lion and the Ape.

TI

IS true, I blame your lover's choice,
Though flatter'd by the public voice,
And peevith grow, and fick, to hear
His exclamations, O how fair!
I liften not to wild delights

And tranfports of expected nights;
What is to me your hoard of charms?
The whitenefs 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 fex,
You never think, but to perplex;
Coquetting it with ev'ry 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 miitress change for life,
To the fubmiflion of a wife.

Your follies, if you can, fufpend,
And learn inftruction from a friend:
Reluctant hear the firft addrefs,
Think often ere you answer Yes;
But, once refolv'd, throw off disguise,
And wear your wishes in your eyes;
With caution ev'ry look forbear
That might create one jealous fear,
A lover's rip'ning 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 muft obey.

The King of brutes, in life's decline,
Refolv'd dominion to refign;
The beafts were fummon'd to appear,
And bend before the royal heir.

They came; a day was fix'd; the crowd
Before 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 flavish awe, Before this pageant king of itraw? 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 fpurn, And play the tyrant each in turn. So fhall he right from wrong difcern, And mercy from oppreflion learn;

At