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At others woes be taught to melt,

Of freedom proud, and scorning man, And loath the ills himself has felt.

Wild o'er the spacious plains he ran. He ipoke; his bosom swellid with pride. Where'er luxuriant nature spread The youthful Lion thus reply'd :

Her flow'ry carpet o'er the mead, Whạt nadness prompts thee to provoke Or bubbling streams soft-gliding pass, My wrath, and dare th’impending stroke ? To cool and freshen up the grass, Thou wretched fool! can wrongs impart Disdaining bounds, he cropt the blade, Compaffion to the feeling heart?

And wanton'd in the spoil he made. Or teach the grateful breast to glow,

In plenty thus the summer pass’d, The hand to give, or eye to flow?

Revolving winter came at last; Learn'd in the practice of their schools, The trees no more a shelter yield, From women thou hast drawn thy rules; The verdure withers from the field, To them return ; in such a cause,

Perpetual snow's invest the ground, From onlv such expeet applause ;

In icy chains the streams are bound, The partial sex I don't condemn,

Cold nipping winds, and rattling hail, For liking those who copy them.

His lank, uníhciter'd fides affail. Would'st thou the gen’rous lion bind ? As round he cast his rueful

eyes, By kincrcfs bribe him to be kind;

He saw the thatch'd-roof cottage rise Good offices their likeness get,

The prospect touch'd his heart with cheer, And payment leisens not the debt;

And promis'd kind deliv'rance near, With multiplying hand he gives

A stable, erst his scorn and hate, .' The good, from others he receives;

Was now become his wifh'd retreat ; Or, for the bad makes fair return,

His pallion cool, his pride forgot, And pay's with int'rest scorn for scorn.

A Farmer's welcome yard he fought,

The master saw his woful plight,

His limbs that totter'd with his weight, § 197. Fable XII. The Colt and the Farmer,

And, friendly, to the stable led,
ELL me, Corinna, if you can,

And saw him litter'd, dress'd, and fed,
Why fo averse, fo coy to man?

In Nothful easc all night he lay;
Did nature, lavith of her care,

The servants rose at break of day; From her best pattern form you fair,

The market calls. Along the road
That you, ungrateful to her cauie,

His back muft bear the pond'rous load;
Should mock her gifts, and spurn her laws ? In vain he struggles, or complains,
And, mifer-like, with-hold that store

Incessant blows reward his pains.
Which, by imparting, blesses more ?

To-morrow varies but his toil; Beauty's a gift, by Heav'n aflign’d

Chain'd to the plough, he breaks the soil ; The portion of the female kind;

While scanty meals at night repay For this the yielding maid demands

The painful labours of the day. ProteErion at her lover's hands;

Subdu'd by toil, with anguilh rent, And though by wasting years it fade,

His self-upbraidings found a vent. Remembrance tells hiin, once 'twas paid. Wretch that I am ? he fighing said,

And will you then this wealth conccal, By arrogance and folly led : For age to rust, or time to fieal?

Had but my reftive youth been brought The summer of your youth to rove

To Icarn the lefton nature taught, A stranger to the joys of love?

Then had 1, like my fires of yore, Then, when life’s winter haftens on,

The prize from ev'ry courler bore; And youth's fair heritage is gone,

While man bestow'd rewards and praise,
Dow'rless to court some pealant's arms,

And females crown'd my latter days.
To guard your wither'd age from harms; Now lasting servitude's my lot,
No gratitude to warm his breast

My birth contemn’d, my speed forgot ;
For blooining beauty once poffeft;

Doom'd am I, for my pride, to bear How will you curse that stubborn pride A living death, from

year year. Which drove your bark across the tide, And sailing before folly's wind,

$ 198. Fable XIII. The Ozol and Nightingale. Left sense and happiness behind! Corinna, left these whims prevail,

To know the mistress

' humour right, To such as you I write my tale.

See if her maids are clean and tight;
A Colt, for blood and mettled specd, If Betty waits without her stays,
The choicest of the running breed,

She copies but her lady's ways.
Of youthful strength, and beauty vain,

When Miss comes in with boilt'rous shout, Refus'd subjection to the rein.

And drops no court'sy going out, In vain the groom's officious skill

Depend upon't, mamma is one Oppos'd his pride and check'd his will;

Who reads, or drinks too much alonc. In vain the mafter's forming care

If bottl'd beer her thirft afluage, Ruftraind with threats, or footh'd with pray'r; She feels enthusiastic rage,



And burns with ardour, to inherit
The gifts and workings of the fpirit.
If learning crack her giddy brains,
No remedy but death remains.
Sum up the various ills of life,
And all are feet to fuch a wife.
At home fuperior wit the vaunts,
And twits her husband with his wants;
Her ragged offspring all around,
Like pigs, are wallowing on the ground;
Impatient ever of controul,
She knows no order but of foul;
With books her litter'd floor is spread,
Of nameless authors, never read;
Foul linen, petticoats, and lace,
Fill up the intermediate fpace.
Abroad, at vifitings, her tongue
Is never ftill, and always wrong;
All meanings the defines away,
And ftands with truth and fenfe at bay.
If e'er the meets a gentle heart,
Skill'd in the housewife's ufeful art,
Who makes her family her care,
And builds contentment's temple there,
She ftarts at fuch mistakes in nature,
And cries, Lord help us!

what a creature!

Meliffa, if the moral strike,
You'll find the fable not unlike.

An Owl, puff'd up with felf-conceit,
Lov'd learning better than his meat;
Old manufcripts he treafur'd up,
And ruinmag'd every grocer's fhop;
At paftry-cooks was known to ply,
And ftrip for foience every pye.
For modern poetry and wit,
He had read all that Blackmore writ:
So intimate with Curl was grown,
His learned treafures were his own;
To all his author's had accefs,
And fometimes would correct the prefs.
In logic he acquir'd fuch knowledge,
You'd fwear him fellow of a college;
Alike to ev'ry art and science,
His daring genius bid defiance,

And swallow'd wifdom with that hafte
That cits do custards at a feaft.

Within the fhelter of a wood,
One ev❜ning, as he mufing ftood,
Hard by, upon a leafy spray,
A Nightingale began his lay.
Sudden he starts, with anger ftung,
And fcreeching, interrupts the fong:
Pert, bufy thing, thy airs give o'er,
And let my contemplation foar.
What is the mufic of thy voice,
But jarring diffonance and noife?
Be wife. 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 author's Pope explodes;
Fathom the depth of Cibber's Odes;
With modern plays improve thy wit;
Read all the learning Henley writ;

And if thou needs must fing, fing then,
And emulate the ways of men;
So fhalt thou grow, like me, refin'd,
And bring improvement to thy kind.
Thou wretch, the little Warbler cry'd,
Made up of ignorance and pride,
Afk 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 fenfelefs authors me moiest,
I mind the duties of my neft;
With careful wing protect iny young,
And cheer their ev'nings with a fong;
Make fhort the weary trav'ller's way,
And warble in the poet's lay.

Thus, following nature and her laws,
From men and birds I claim applaufe;
While, nurs'd in pedantry and floth,
An Owl is fcorn'd alike by both.

$ 199. Fable XIV. The Sparrow and the Dove


was, as learn'd traditions fay,
Upon an April's blithefome day,
When pleasure, ever on the wing,
Return'd, companion of the fpring,
And cheer'd the birds with am'rous heat,
Inftructing little hearts to beat;

A Sparrow, frolic, gay, and young,
Of bold addrefs, and Hippant tongue,
Juft left his lady of a night,
Like him to follow new delight.

The youth, of many a conqueft vain,
Flew off to feck the chirping train;
The chirping train he quickly found,
And with a faucy cafe bow'd round.
For ev'ry the his bofom burns,
And this and that he woos by turns;
And here a figh, and there a bill;
And here- thofe eyes, fo form'd to kill !
And now, with ready tongue, he ftrings
Unmeaning, foft, refiftlefs things;
With vows, and dem-me's skill'd to woo,
As other pretty fellows do.

Not that he thought this fhort effay
A prologue needful to his play;
No, truft me, fays our learned letter,
He knew the virtuous fex much better;
But thefe he held as fpecious arts,
To fhew his own fuperior parts,
The form of decency to fhield,
And give a juft pretence to yield.

Thus finishing his courtly play,
He mark'd the fav'rite of a day;
With careless impudence drew near,
And whisper'd Hebrew in her ear;
A hint, which like the mafon's fign,
The confcious can alone divine.

The flutt'ring nymph, expert at feigning, Cry'd, Sir !-pray Sir, explain your meaningGo prate to thofe that may endure ye To me this rudenefs !—I'll affure ye! —


Then off the glided, like a swallow,
As faying-you guefs where to follow.
To fuch as know the party fet,
'Tis needlefs to declare they met ;
The parfon's barn, as authors mention,
Confefs'd the fair had apprehenfion.
Her honour there fecure from stain,
She held all farther trifling vain ;
No more affected to be coy,
But ruth'd licentious on the joy.
Hift, Love!—the male companion cry'd,
Retire a while; I fear we're fpy'd.
Nor was the caution vain; he faw
A Turtle ruftling in the straw,
While o'er her callow brood the hung,
And fondly thus addrefs'd her

Ye tender objects of my care!
Peace, peace, ye little helpless pair;
Anon he comes, your gentle fire,
And brings you all your hearts require.
For us, his infants and his bride,
For us, with only love to guide,
Our lord affumes an eagle's fpeed,
And, like a lion, dares to bleed.
Nor yet by wint'ry skies confin'd,
He mounts upon the rudeft wind,
From danger tears the vital spoil,
And with affection fweetens toil.
Ah ceafe, too vent'rous! ceafe to dare;
In thine, our dearer safety spare!
From him, ye cruel falcons, stray,
And turn, ye fowlers, far away!

Should I furvive to see the day
That tears me from myself away,
That cancels all that Heav'n could give,
The life by which alone I live,
Alas, how more than loft were I,
Who in the thought already die!

Ye Pow'rs, whom men and birds obey,
Great rulers of your creatures, fay,
Why mourning comes, by blifs convey'd,
And ev'n the fweets of love allay'd?
Where grows enjoyment, tall and fair,
Around it twines entangling care;
While fear for what our fouls poffefs
Enervates ev'ry pow'r to blefs;
Yet friendship forms the blifs above;
And, life! what art thou without love?
Our hero, who had heard apart,
Felt fomething moving in his heart;
But quickly, with disdain fuppreft
The virtue rifing in his breast;
And firft he feign'd to laugh aloud;
And next, approaching, finil'd and bow'd:
Madam you must not think me rude;
Good manners never can intrude;
I vow I come thro' pure good nature-
(Upon my foul a charming creature!)
Are these the comforts of a wife?
This careful, cloifter'd, moping life?
No doubt, that odious thing, call'd Duty,
Is a fweet province for a beauty.
Thou pretty ignorance! thy will
Is meafur'd to thy want of skill;

That good old-fashion'd dame, thy mother, Has taught thy infant years no other — (The greateft ill in the creation

Is fure the want of education.

But think
ye- tell me without feigning,
Have all thefe charms no farther meaning?
Dame nature, if you don't forget her,
Might teach your ladyship much better.
For fhame, reject this mean employment;
Enter the world, and tafte enjoyment;
Where time by circling blifs we measure :
Beauty was form'd alone for pleafure;
Come, prove the bleffing, follow me,
Be wife, be happy, and be free.

Kind Sir, reply'd our matron chafte,
Your zeal feems pretty much in hafte;
I own, the fondnefs to be bleft
Is a deep thirst in every breast;
Of bleffings too I have my store,

Yet quarrel not, fhould Heav'n give more;
Then prove the change to be expedient,
And think me, Sir, your moft obedient.

Here turning, as to one inferior,
Our gallant fpoke, and fimil'd fuperior.
Methinks, to quit your boafted station
Requires a world of hesitation;
Where brats and bonds are held a bleffing,
The cafe I doubt is paft redreffing.
Why, child, fuppofe the joys I mention
Were the mere fruits of my invention,
You've caufe fufficient for your carriage,
In flying from the curfe of marriage;
That fly decoy, with vary'd fnares,
That takes your widgeons in by pairs;
Alike to hufband and to wife,
The cure of love and bane of life;
The only method of forecasting,
To make misfortune firm and lafting;
The fin, by Heav'n's peculiar fentence,
Unpardon'd, through a life's repentance.
It is the double fnake that weds
A common tail to diff'rent heads,
That leads the carcase still aftray,
By dragging each a diff'rent way.
Of all the ills that may attend me,
From marriage, mighty gods, defend me!
Give me frank nature's wild demefne,
And boundless tract of air ferene,
Where fancy, ever wing'd for change,
Delights to fport, delights to range;
There, Liberty to thee is owing
Whate'er of blifs is worth beftowing;
Delights ftill vary'd, and divine,
Sweet goddess of the hills! are thine.


What fay you now, you pretty pink, you Have I for once fpoke reafon, think you? You take me now for no romancerCome, never study for an answer; Away, caft ev'ry care behind ye, And fly where joy alone thall find


Soft yet, return'd our female fencer, A question more, or fo-and then, Sir. You've rally'd me with fenfe exceeding, With much fine wit, and better breeding;


But pray, Sir, how do you contrive it?
Do thofe of your world never wive it ?
“No, no.” ~ How then?" Why, dare I tell ?
"What does the bus'nefs full as well."
Do you ne'er love?" An hour at leifure."
Have you no friendships? "Yes, for pleasure."
No care for little ones? "We get 'em."
"The reit the mothers mind- and let 'em."
Thou wretch, rejoin'd the kindling Dove,
Quite loft to life as loft to love!
Whene'er misfortune comes, how just !
And come misfortune furely muft;
In the dread featon of difinay,
In that, your hour of trial, fay,
Who then shall prop your finking 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 tranfient cheer,
And blafts the melancholy year;
For times at no perfuafion ftay,
Nor vice can find perpetual May;
Then where's that tongue, by folly fed,
That fout of pertnefs whither fled?
All fhrunk within thy lonely neft,
Forlorn, abandon'd, and unbleft!
No friends, by cordial bonds ally'd,
Shall feek thy cold, unfocial fide;
No chirping prattlers to delight,
Shall turn the long enduring night;
No bride her words of balm impart,
And warm thee at her conftant heart.
Freedom, reftrain'd by reafon's force,
Is as the fun's unvarying course,
Benignly active, fweetly bright,
Affording warmth, affording light;
But torn from virtue's facred rules,
Becomes a comet, gaz'd by fools,
Foreboding cares, and storins, and strife,
And fraught with all the plagues of life.
Thou fool! by union ev'ry creature
Subfifts, through univerfal nature;
And this, to beings void of mind,
Is wedlock of a meaner kind.

While womb'd in space, primæval clay,
A yet unfashion'd embryo lay,
The Source of endless good, above,
Shot down his fpark of kindling love;
Touch'd by the all-enliv'ning flame,
Then motion first exulting came;
Each atom fought its fep'rate clafs
Through many a fair, enamour'd mass;
Love caft the central charm around,
And with eternal nuptials bound.
Then form and order o'er the sky
Firft train'd their bridal pomp on high;
The fun difplay'd his orb to fight,
And burnt with hymeneal light.

Hence nature's virgin-womb conceiv'd,
And with the genial burden heav'd!
Forth came the oak, her first born heir,
And feal'd the breathing steep of air;
Then infant ftems, of various ufe,
Lnbib'd her foft maternal juice;

The flow'rs, in early bloom difclos❜d,
Upon her fragrant breaft repos'd;
Within her warm embraces grew
A race of endless form, and hue;
Then pour'd her leffer offspring round,
And fondly cloath'd their parent ground.
Nor here alone the virtue reign'd,
By matter's cumb'ring form detain'd;
But thence, fubliming and refin'd,
Afpir'd, and reach'd its kindred mind.
Caught in the fond celeftial fire,
The mind perceiv'd unknown defire;
And now with kind effufion flow'd,
And now with cordial ardour glow 'd,
Beheld the fympathetic fair,
And lov'd its own refemblance there ;
On all with circling radiance fhone,
But cent'ring, fix'd on one alone;
There clafp'd the heav'n-appointed wife,
And doubled ev'ry joy of life,"

Here ever bleffing, ever bleft,
Refides this beauty of the breaft,
As from his palace, here the god
Still beams effulgent blifs abroad;
Here gems his own eternal round,
The ring by which the world is bound;
Here bids his feat of empire grow,
And builds his little heav'n below.

The bill partners thus ally'd,
And thus in fweet accordance ty'd,
One body, heart, and fpirit live,
Enrich'd by ev'ry joy they give;
Like echo, from her vocal hold,
Return'd in mufic twenty-fold.
Their union, firm and undecay'd,
Nor time can fhake, nor pow'r invade,
But as the ftem and fcion ftand;
Ingrafted by a skilful hand,
They check the tempeft's wint❜ry rage,
And bloom and ftrengthen into age.
A thoufand amities unknown,
And pow'rs, perceiv'd by love alone,
Endearing looks and chafte defire
Fan and fupport the mutual fire,
Whofe flaine, perpetual as refin'd,
Is fed by an immortal mind.
Nor yet the nuptial fanction ends;
Like Nile it opens, and defcends,
Which, by apparent windings led,
We trace to its celeftial head.
The fire, first fpringing from above,
Becomes the fource of life and love,
And gives his filial heir to flow
In fondnefs down on fons below:
Thus roll'd in one continu'd tide,
To time's extremeft verge they glide,
While kindred ftreams, on either hand,
Branch forth in bleffings o'er the land.
Thee, wretch! no lifping babe fhall name;
No late-returning brother claim;
No kinfiman on thy road rejoice;
No fifter greet thy ent'ring voice;
With partial eyes no parents fee,
And blefs their years reftor'd in thee.

In age rejected, or declin'd,
An alien, ev'n among thy kind;
The partner of thy fcorn'd embrace
Shall play the wanton in thy face;
Each spark unplume thy little pride;
All friendship fly thy faithlefs fide.
Thy name thall like thy carcafe rot,
In fickness fpurn'd, in death forgot.
All-giving Pow'r! great Source of life!
O hear the parent! hear the wife!
That life thou lendeft from above,
Though little, make it large in love;
O bid my feeling heart expand
To ev'ry claim on ev'ry hand;

To thofe from whom my days I drew
To thefe, in whom those days renew;
To all my kin, however wide,
In cordial warmth as blood ally'd;
To friends, with fteely fetters twin'd;
And to the crucl nct unkind!

But chief, the lord of my defire,
My life, myfelf, my foul, my fire,
Friends, children, all that with can claim,
Chafte paffion clasp, and rapture name;
O fpare him, fpare him, gracious Pow'r !
O give him to my latest hour!
Let me my length of life employ
To give my foul-enjoyment joy.
His love, let mutual love excite,
Turn all my cares to his delight,
And ev'ry needlefs bleffing fpare,
Wherein my darling wants a fhare.
When he with graceful action woos,
And fweetly bills, and fondly coos,
Ah, deck me, to his eyes alone,
With charms attractive as his own;
And in my circling wings carefs'd,
Give all the lover to my breast.
Then in our chafte connubial bed,
My bofom pillow'd for his head,
His eyes with blissful flumbers close,
And watch, with me, my lord's repofe ;.
Your peace around his temples twine;
And love him with a love like mine,

And, for I know his gen'rous flame,
Beyond whate'er my fex can claim,
Me too to your protection take,
And fpare me for my husband's fake,
Let one unruffled calm delight
The loving and belov'd unite,
One pure defire our bofoms warm,
One will direct, one wish inform;
Through life, one mutual aid fuftain;
In death, one peaceful grave contain.

While, fwelling with the darling theme, Her accents poun'd an endless stream, The well-known wings a found impart, That reach'd her ear, and touch'd her heart; Quick dropp'd the mufic of her tongue, And forth, with eager joy, the fprung. As fwift her ent'ring confort flew, And plum'd and kindled at the view; Their wings, their fouls, embracing meet, Their hearts with answering measure beat;

Half loft in facred fweets, and blefs'd
With raptures felt, but ne'er exprefs'd.
Straight to her humble roof the led
The partner of her fpotlefs bed;
Her young, a flutt'ring pair, arife,
Their welcome fparkling in their eyes;
Tranfported, to their fire they bound,
And hang with fpeechlefs action round.
In pleasure wrapt, the parents ftand,
And fee their little wings expand;
The fire, his life-fuftaining prize
To each expecting bill applies,
There fondly pours the wheaten spoil,
With tranfport giv'n, tho' won with toil;
While, all collected at the fight,
And filent through fupreme delight,
The Fair high heav'n of blifs beguiles,
And on her lord and infants fimiles.

The Sparrow, whofe attention hung
Upon the Dove's enchanting tongue,
Of all his little flights difarm'd,
And from himself, by virtue, charm'd,
When now he faw, what only feem'd
A fact fo late, a fable deem'd,
His foul to envy he refign'd,
His hours of folly to the wind;
In fecret with a turtle too,
And, fighing to himself, withdrew.

§ 200.


Fable XV. The Female Seducers.

IS faid of widow, maid, and wife,
That honor is a woman's life;
Unhappy fex who only claim
A being in the breath of fame;
Which tainted, not the quick'ning gales
That fweep Sabæa's fpicy vales,
Nor all the healing fweets reftore,
That breathe along Arabia's fhore.

The trav'ller, if he chance to ftray,
May turn uncenfur'd to his way;
Polluted streams again are pure,
And deepest wounds admit a cure ;
But woman! no redemption knows;
The wounds of honor never close.

Tho' diftant ev'ry hand to guide,
Nor fkill'd on life's tempeftuops tide,
If once her feeble bark recede,'
Or deviate from the courfe decreed,
In vain the fecks the friendlefs fhore,
Her fwifter folly flies before;
The circling ports againft her close,.
And fhut the wand'rer from repofe;'
Till, by conflicting waves oppreft,
Her found'ring pinnace finks to reft.

Are there no off'rings to atone
For but a fingle error - None.
Tho' woman is avow'd, of old,
No daughter of celeftial mould,.
Her temp'ring not without allay,
And form'd but of the finer clay,
We challenge from the mortal dame
The ftrength angelic natures claim;


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