Truth in Fiction Or, Morality in Masquerade. A Collection of Two hundred twenty five Select Fables of Aesop, and other Authors. Done into English Verse. By Edmund Arwaker |
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Truth in Fiction | ||
A greedy Wretch his Patrimony sold,
And turn'd his fruitful Land to barren Gold;
And, lest the Sum, by using, shou'd decay,
Committed Earth to Earth, and Clay to Clay.
His Wealth thus bury'd in a secret Hole,
And, with his Bags, his very Heart and Soul;
To their dear Tomb he daily Visits made,
And at that Shrine his whole Devotion paid.
A Needy Fellow, that observ'd his Walk,
And guess'd the Ghost did near some Treasure stalk,
Came to the Place; and, when he try'd the Ground,
The rich Depositum, rejoycing, found:
He bless'd his Fortune, and the Booty bore
(To spend it safely) to a foreign Shore.
And turn'd his fruitful Land to barren Gold;
And, lest the Sum, by using, shou'd decay,
Committed Earth to Earth, and Clay to Clay.
His Wealth thus bury'd in a secret Hole,
And, with his Bags, his very Heart and Soul;
To their dear Tomb he daily Visits made,
And at that Shrine his whole Devotion paid.
A Needy Fellow, that observ'd his Walk,
And guess'd the Ghost did near some Treasure stalk,
Came to the Place; and, when he try'd the Ground,
The rich Depositum, rejoycing, found:
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(To spend it safely) to a foreign Shore.
The Owner soon return'd to watch his Coin,
But found another Hand had digg'd the Mine:
Sad Signs inform'd him his Delight was gone,
His Yellow-hammers from the Nest were flown.
Sunk by this Loss into profound Despair,
He beat and tore his guiltless Breast and Hair:
His raging Sorrow, in no Bounds restrain'd,
Gave a convincing Proof it was not feign'd.
But found another Hand had digg'd the Mine:
Sad Signs inform'd him his Delight was gone,
His Yellow-hammers from the Nest were flown.
Sunk by this Loss into profound Despair,
He beat and tore his guiltless Breast and Hair:
His raging Sorrow, in no Bounds restrain'd,
Gave a convincing Proof it was not feign'd.
A Friend, that saw him in this Transport rave,
Bid him his Grief for better Purpose save;
And said, You vainly your lost Hoard deplore,
Which, since you kept it hid, was yours no more:
Bury a Stone where your dear Idol lay,
And there, as formerly, your Visits pay;
Imagination will Effects produce
Of equal Value, since of equal Use.
Bid him his Grief for better Purpose save;
And said, You vainly your lost Hoard deplore,
Which, since you kept it hid, was yours no more:
Bury a Stone where your dear Idol lay,
And there, as formerly, your Visits pay;
Imagination will Effects produce
Of equal Value, since of equal Use.
Truth in Fiction | ||