FABLE V. The Mule:
Or, The Boaster humbled.
A pamper'd
Mule fat with High keeping grew,
And (as 'tis usu'l) was grown haughty too;
His Birth and Parentage did highly boast,
And what a Price the Horse his Father cost;
How often on New-market-Heath he run,
How many Plates and Guinea's he had won:
Hence the vain Fopling did himself admire,
Because he was so like his noble Sire.
But, in the height of all his vaunting Pride,
He was led out on Bansted-Downs to ride;
Where (tho' he vainly to the Course aspir'd,)
E're half a Heat was run, he sunk and tir'd.
This check'd his Pride; and thus, in doleful tone,
The humbled Creature did himself bemoan;
I must acknowledge, my Descent was base,
And what I call'd an Horse, was but an Ass.
The MORAL.
‘Thus prosp'rous Fools, like Bladders newly blown,
‘Swell high, and hardly by themselves are known;
‘Forget the Dunghills whence the Mushrooms grew,
‘And boast themselves to be the Lord knows who:
‘When crush'd by Fate, like Bladders broke, they fall,
‘And sink into their mean Original;
‘Own their Mistake; and all their Vapours past
‘Prove but a noisie and a noisom Blast.
