Or fhears his fheep that round him graze,
And droop beneath their curling loads;
Or plunders his laborious bees

Of balmy nectar, drink of gods!
His cheerful head when Autumn rears,
And bending boughs reward his pains,
Joyous he plucks the lufcious pears,

The purple grape his finger stains.
Each honeft heart's a welcome gueft,
With tempting fruit his tables glow,
The gods are bidden to the feast,

To fhare the bleflings they beftow.
Under an oak's protecting fhade,
In flowery meads profufely gay,
Supine he leans his peaceful head,
And gently loiters life away.
The vocal ftreams that murmuring flow,
Or from their fprings complaining creep,
The birds that chirp on every bough,
Invite his yielding eyes to fleep.
But, when bleak ftorms and lowering Jove
Now fadden the declining year,
Through every thicket, every grove,
Swift he pursues the flying deer.

With deep-hung hounds he sweeps the plains ;
The hills, the vallies, fmoke around:
The woods repeat his pleasing pains,
And echo propagates the found.

Or, pufh'd by his victorious fpear,
The grifly boar before him flies,
Betray'd by his prevailing fear

Into the toils, the monster dies.

His towering falcon mounts the skies,
And cuts through clouds his liquid way;
Or elfe with fly deceit he tries

To make the leffer game his prey.
Who, thus poffefs'd of folid joy,
Would love, that idle imp, adore?
Cloe's coquet, Myrtilla's coy,

And Phyllis is a perjur'd whore.
Adieu, fantastic idle flame!

Give me a profitable wife,
A careful, but obliging dame,
To foften all the toils of life:
Who fhall with tender care provide,
Against her weary spouse return,
With plenty fee his board fupply'd,
And make the crackling billets burn:
And while his men and maids repair

To fold his theep, to milk his kine,
With unbought dainties feast her dear,
And treat him with domeftic wine.

I view with pity and disdain

The coftly trifles coxcombs boast,
Their Bourdeaux, Burgundy, Champaign,
Though sparkling with the brightest toaft.
Pleas'd with found manufacture more,
Than all the ftum the knaves impofe,
When the vain cully treats his whore,
At Brawn's, the Mitre, or the Role.

Let fops their fickly palates please,
With luxury's expensive store,
And feaft each virulent difeafe
With dainties from a foreign fhore.
I, whom my little farm supplies,
Richly on nature's bounty live;
The only happy are the wife,

Content is all the gods can give.
While thus on wholesome cates I feast,
Oh, with what rapture I behold
My flocks in comely order hafte
T'enrich with foil the barren fold!
The languid or approaches flow,

To fhare the food his labours earn:
Painful he tugs th' inverted plough,
Nor hunger quickens his return.
My wanton fwains, uncouthly gay,
About my fmiling hearth delight,
To fweeten the laborious day,

By many a merry tale at night. Thus fpoke old Gripe, when bottles three Of Burton ale, and fea-coal fire, Unlock'd his breast; refolv'd to be

A generous, honest, country 'fquire. That very night his money lent,

On bond, or mortgage, he call'd in,
With lawful use of fix per cent.

Next morn, he put it out at ten.
FABLE I.

For prog and plunder fcour'd the plains,
Some French Gens d' Armes furpris'd, and beat,
And brought their trumpeter in chains.

In doleful plight, th' unhappy bard
For quarter begg'd on bended knee,
Pity, Meffieurs! In truth 'tis hard
To kill a harmless enemy.
Thefe hands, of flaughter innocent,
Ne'er brandish'd the destructive sword,
To you or yours no hurt I meant,
O take a poor musician's word.
But the ftern foe, with generous rage,
Scoundrel! reply'd, thou first shalt die,
Who, urging others to engage,

From fame and danger bafely fly.
The brave by law of arms we spare,
Thou by the hangman fhalt expire;
'Tis juft, and not at all fevere,
To stop the breath that blew the fire.
FABLE II.

Hafty and hot; whofe peevish honour
Reveng'd each flight was put upon her,
Upon a mountain's top one day
Expos'd to Sol's meridian ray;

He fum'd, he rav'd, he curs'd, he swore,
Exhal'd a fea at every pore:

At last, fuch infults to evade,

Sought the next tree's protecting shade;
Where, as he lay diffolv'd in fweat,
And wip'd off many a rivulet,

Off in a pet the beaver flies,
And flaxen wig, time's best disguise,
By which, folks of maturer ages

Vie with fmooth beaux, and ladies pages:
Though 'twas a fecret rarely known,
Ill-natur'd age had cropt his crown,
Grubb'd all the covert up, and now
A large fmooth plain extends his brow.
Thus as he lay with numfkul bare,
And courted the refreshing air,
New perfecutions ftill appear,
A noify fly offends his ear.
Alas what man of parts and sense
Could bear fuch vile impertinence?
Yet fo difcourteous is our fate,
Fools always buz about the great.
This infect now, whofe active spight,
Teaz'd him with never-ceafing bite,
With fo much judgment play'd his part,
He had him both in tierce and quart:
In vain with open hands he tries
To guard his ears, his nofe, his eyes;
For now at laft, familiar grown,
He perch'd upon his worship's crown,
With teeth and claws his kin he tore,
And stuff'd himself with human gore.
At last, in manners to excel,
Untrufs'd à point, fome authors tell.
But now what rhetoric could affuage
The furious 'fquire, fark mad with rage?
Impatient at the foul disgrace,
From infect of fo mean a race;
And plotting vengeance on his foe,

With double fift he aims a blow:

The nimble fly escap'd by flight,
And skip'd from this unequal fight.
Th' impending ftroke with all its weight
Fell on his own beloved pate.

Thus much he gain'd by this adventurous deed,
He foul'd his fingers, and he broke his head.

FABLE III.

The Ant and the Fly.

"Quem res plus nimio delectavêre fecundæ, "Mutatæ quatient."

THE careful ant that meanly fares,

And labours hardly to fupply,

With wholefome cates and homely fares,
His numerous working family;

Upon a visit met one day

His coufin fly, in all his pride, A courtier infolent and gay,

By Goody Maggot near ally'd:
The humble infect humbly bow'd,
And all his lowest congees paid,
Of an alliance wondrous proud

To fuch a huffing tearing blade.
The haughty fly look'd big, and swore

He knew him not, nor whence he came
Huff'd much, and with impatience bore
The fcandal of fo mean a claim.

Friend Clodpate, know, 'tis not the mode
At court, to own fuch clowns as thee,
Nor is it civil to intrude

On flies of rank and quality.

I-who, in joy and indolence,

Converfe with monarchs and grandees, Regaling every nicer fenfe

With olios, foups, and fricaffees; Who kifs each beauty's balmy lip, Or gently buz into her ear, About her fnowy bofom fkip,

HOR

And sometimes creep the Lord knows where ! The ant, who could no longer bear

His coufin's infolence and pride,
Tofs'd up his head, and with an air
Of conscious worth, he thus reply'd :
Vain infect! know, the time will come,
When the court-fun no more shall shine,
When frofts thy gaudy limbs benumb,

And damps about thy wings fhall twine;
When fome dark nafty hole fhall hide
And cover thy neglected head,
When all this lofty fwelling pride

Shall burt, and fhrink into a fhade:
Take heed, left fortune change the scene:
Some of thy brethren I remember,
In June have mighty princes been,

But begg'd their bread before December.

With Urfin grim, an errant bear,
Maintain'd a long and dubious war:
Oft Urfin on his back was toft,
And Towfer many a collop loft;
Capricious fortune would declare,
Now for the dog, then for the bear.
Thus having try'd their courage fairly,
Brave Urfin firft defir'd a parly;

Stout combatant (quoth he) whose might
I've felt in many a bloody fight,
Tell me the cause of all this pother,
And why we worry one another?
That's a moot point, the cur reply'd,
Our mafters only can decide.
While thee and I our hearts blood spill,
They prudently their pockets fill;
Halloo us on with all their might,
To turn a penny by the fight.
If that's the cafe, return'd the bear,
'Tis time at laft to end the war;
Thou keep thy teeth, and I my claws,
To combat in a nobler cause;
Sleep in a whole skin, I advise,

HOR.

MORAL.

Parties enrag'd on one another fall,
The butcher and the bear-ward pocket all.

FABLE VI.

The Wounded Man, and the Swarm of Flies. "E malis minimum.”—

SQUALID with wounds, and many a gaping fore,
A wretched Lazar lay distress'd;

A (warm of flies his bleeding ulcers tore,
And on his putrid carcase feast.

A courteous traveller, who pafs'd that way,
And faw the vile Harpeian brood,
Offer'd his help the monstrous crew to flay,
That rioted on human blood.

Ah gentle fir, th' unhappy wretch reply'd,
Your well-meant charity refrain;
The angry gods have that redress deny'd,
Your goodness would increase my pain.
Fat, and full-fed, and with abundance cloy'd,
But now and then these tyrants feed;
But were, alas! this pamper'd brood destroy'd,
The lean and hungry would fucceed.

MORAL.

The body politic must foon decay,
When fwarms of infects on its vitals prey;
When blood-fuckers of state, a greedy brood,
Feaft on our wounds, and fatten with our blood.

What must we do in this fevere distress?
Come, doctor, give the patient fome redress:
The quacks in politics a change advise,
But cooler counfels fhould direct the wife.
'Tis hard, indeed; but better this, than worfe;
Miftaken bleffings prove the greatest curse.
Alas! what would our bleeding country gain,
If, when this viperous brood at last is flain,
The teeming Hydra pullulates again;
Seizes the prey with more voracious bite,
To fatisfy his hungry appetite?

FABLE VII.

The Wolf and the Dog.

}

A PROWLING Wolf that scour'd the plains,
To ease his hunger's griping pains;
Ragged as courtier in disgrace,
Hide-bound, and lean, and out of cafe;
By chance a well-fed dog efpy'd,
And being kin, and near ally'd,
He civilly falutes the cur,

How do you, cuz? Your fervant, fir!
O happy friend! how gay thy mien !
How plump thy fides, how fleek thy skin!
Triumphant plenty shines all o'er,

While I, alas decay'd and old,

With hunger pin'd, and stiff with cold,
With many a howl, and hideous groan,
Tell the relentlefs woods my moan.
Pr'ythee, my happy friend impart
Thy wond'rous, cunning, thriving art.
Why, faith, I'll tell thee as a friend,
But first thy furly manners mend;
Be complaifant, obliging, kind,
And leave the wolf for once behind.
The wolf, whofe mouth began to water,
With joy and rapture gallop'd after,
When thus the dog: At bed and board,
I share the plenty of my lord;
From every gueft I claim a fee,
Who court my lord by bribing me:
In mirth I revel all the day,
And many a game at romps I play :
I fetch and carry, leap o'er fticks,
And twenty fuch diverting tricks.
'Tis pretty, faith, the wolf reply'd,
And on his neck the collar fpy'd:
He starts, and without more ado
He bids the abject wretch adieu :
Enjoy your dainties, friend; to me
The nobleft feast is liberty.

The famish'd wolf upon thefe defart plains,
Is happier than a fawning cur in chains.

MORAL.

Thus bravely spoke the nurfe of ancient Rome,
Thus the starv'd Swiss, and hungry Grifons roam,
On barren hills, clad with eternal fnow,
And look with fcorn on the prim flaves below.
Thus Cato 'fcap'd by death the tyrant's chains,
And walks unfhackled in th' Elyfian plains.
Thus, Britons, thus your great forefathers stood
For liberty, and fought in feas of blood.
To barren rocks, and gloomy woods confin'd,
Their virtues by neceffity refin'd,

Nor cold, nor want, nor death, could shake their fteady mind.

No faucy Druid then durft cry aloud,

And with his flavish cant debauch the crowd:
No paffive legions in a fcoundrel's caufe
Pillage a city, and affront the laws.
The state was quiet, happy, and ferene,
For Boadicea was the Briton's queen;
Her fubjects their just liberties maintain'd,
And in her people's hearts the happy monarch
reign'd.

Actions on actions hence fucceed,
Each hero's obftinately ftout,
Green bags and parchments fly about,
Pleadings are drawn, and counfel fee'd.
The parfon of the place, good man!
Whofe kind and charitable heart
In human ills ftill bore a part,
Thrice fhook his head, and thus began:
Neighbours and friends, refer to me

This doughty matter in difpute,
I'll foon decide th' important fuit,
And finish all without a fee.
Give me the oyfter then-'tis well-
He opens it, and at one sup
Gulps the contested trifle up,
And, fmiling, gives to each a fhell.
Henceforth let foolish difcord cease,

Your oyfter's good as e'er was eat;
I thank you for my dainty treat,
God bless you both, and live in peace.

και Θεες βροτοι απιοωνται. Εξ ημέων γαρ φασι κακ' εμμεναι· οι δε και αυτο Σφησιν ατασθαλίησιν υπέρ μόρον αλγε έχεσιν.

In a wild ftate of nature, long

The frogs at random liv'd,

The weak a prey unto the ftrong,
With anarchy opprefs'd and griev'd.

At length the lawless rout,

Taught by their fufferings, grew devout:
An embafly to Jove they fent,
And begg'd his highness would bestow
Some fettled form of government,
A king to rule the fens below.
Jove, fmiling, grants their odd request,
A king th' indulgent power beftow'd,
(Such as might fuit their genius beft)
A beam of a prodigious size,

With all its cumberous load,
Came tumbling from the fkies.
The waters dash against the fhore,
The hollow caverns roar;

The rocks return the dreadful found,
Convulfions shake the ground.
The multitude with horror fled,
And in his cozy bed

Each fkulking coward hid his head.

When all is now grown calm again,
And smoothly glides the liquid plain,
A frog more refolute and bold,
Peeping with caution from his hold;
Recover'd from his first surprise,
As o'er the wave his head he popt,
He faw-but fcarce believ'd his eyes,
On the fame bank where first he dropt,
Th' imperial lubber lies,

Stretch'd at his eafe, carelefs, content :
Is this the monarch Jove has fent,
(Said he) our warlike troops to lead?
Ay! 'tis a glorious prince indeed!
By fuch an active general led,

The routed mice our arms fhall dread,

Subdued fhall quit their claim:
Old Homer fhall recant his lays,

For us new trophies raife,

Sing our victorious arms, and juftify our fame.
Then laughing impudently loud,

He foon alarm'd the daftard crowd.
The croaking nations with contempt
Behold the worthlefs indolent,

On wings of winds, fwift fcandal flies,
Libels, lampoons, and lies,

Hoarfe treafons, tunelefs blafphemies.
With active leap at last upon his back they ftride,
And on the royal loggerhead in triumph ride.
Once more to Jove their prayers addreft,
And once more Jove grants their request :
A ftork he fends of monitrous fize,
Red lightning flashing in his eyes;
Rul'd by no block, as heretofore,
The gazing crowds prefs'd to his court;
Admire his ftately mien, his haughty port,

And only not adore.

Addreffes of congratulation,

Sent from each loyal corporation,

Full-freight with truth and fenfe,

Exhaufted all their eloquence.

Liberty and Love; or, the two Sparrows.
66 Dos eft uxoria, lites."

A SPARROW and his mate,
(Believe me, gentle Kate)
Once lov'd like I and you;
With mutual ardour join'd,
No turtles e'er fo kind,

So conftant, and so true.
They hopp'd from spray to spray,
They bill'd, they chirp'd all day,

They cuddled clofe all night;
To blifs they wak'd each morn,
In every bush and thorn,

Gay fcenes of new delight.
At length the fowler came,
(The knave was much to blame)
And this dear pair trapann'd;
Both in one cage confin'd,
Why, faith and troth, 'twas kind;
Nay, hold that must be scann’d.
Fair liberty thus gone,

And one coop'd up with one,

'Twas awkward, new, and ftrange; For better and for worse, O difmal, fatal curfe!

No more abroad to range.
No carols now they fing,
Each droops his little wing,

And mourns his cruel fate :
Clouds on each brow appear,
My honey, and my dear,
Is now quite out of date.

The Grand Vizier firft goes to pot,

Three Baffas next, happy their lot! Gain'd Faradife by being eat.

And this, faid he, and this is mine,

'Twould melt an heart of ftone, To hear their fad complaint: Nor he fupply'd her wants, Nor the refrain'd from taunts,

OVID.