FABLE III. The Sow and Bitch:
Or, More Haste, than good Speed.
A
Sow and Bitch, engag'd in warm Dispute,
Whose Womb was most Prolifick in its Fruit:
The Bitch affirm'd, She, each revolving Year,
Did oft'ner, and more num'rous Litters, bear.
The Sow reply'd; Small cause to boast, you find,
For all your haste; you whelp your Puppies blind.
The MORAL.
‘Some, in few Months, more bulky Volumes write,
‘Than Others in as many Years indite;
‘But, the true Credit, which their Works obtain,
‘Not from Dispatch, but from Perfection, gain:
‘And Books, that pass too soon the Author's Hand,
‘Too long upon the Seller's Shelves may stand.
