University of Virginia Library

Search this document 

151

FABLE XLI. The Hart and Fountain:

Or, Few know their own Interest.

A Hart, that at a Fountain smooth and clear,
Quenching his Thirst, saw his Reflexion there;
Admir'd his branching Horns, and portly Gate,
But scorn'd his slender Legs that bore the Weight.
In Contemplation long he had not stood,
When a loud Hollow echo'd from the Wood:
He soon resum'd his wonted Fear, and fled,
With more Dependance on his Heels, than Head:
But, as in haste he through a Thicket press'd,
Entangling Briars did his Horns arrest:
Thus seiz'd, he slighted what before he pris'd,
And valu'd now the Shanks he had despis'd;
For they, he found, did not his Horns oppose,
Wou'd bear him off in safety from his Foes.

The MORAL.

‘Our Ruin often in our Wishes lies,
‘And most we suffer by what most we prise:
‘Slighting the better Part, we chuse the worse,
‘Neglect a Blessing, and pursue a Curse:
‘We still are to our real Int'rest blind,
‘And grope for Pleasures which we rarely find.