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 gen'rous Soul, whose Bottle and his Friend
Made Life sit well, and did its Cares unbend,
Invited, to a Dish or two of Meat,
An old Acquaintance, worthy of the Treat.
Made Life sit well, and did its Cares unbend,
Invited, to a Dish or two of Meat,
An old Acquaintance, worthy of the Treat.
His Spaniel, who the Proverb oft' had prov'd,
That, As the Master, so the Dog, is lov'd;
An equal Strain of Courtesy express'd,
And pray'd his Neighbour-Dog to be his Guest.
The ready Curr, that did no Pressing need,
To please his Friend, but more himself agreed;
And when his Master thought it Time to go,
He stretch'd himself, and yawn'd, and travel'd too.
He came, was introduc'd by his Comrade,
And to the Kitchin his Devotion paid.
He saw there was a noble Bill of Fare,
And, when his Dishes he had chose with Care,
He lick'd his Lips, and wagg'd his Tail, for Joy,
To think how well he shou'd his Teeth employ:
At last, discover'd by the hasty Cook,
Who wou'd not there such loose Companions brook,
He found Dame Fortune's Smiles a meer Caprice,
His Hopes were disappointed in a trice:
He got a Knock or two, without a Bit,
And, e're he tasted Roast-Meat, felt the Spit;
Then by the Tail was three times hurl'd about,
And, like a Dog that Pudding stole, thrown out.
Asham'd, and troubl'd that his Stars so lour'd,
He yaul'd, betook him to his Heels, and scour'd;
But told his Fellow-Currs, (who soon repair'd
To know how well their Brother-Scrambler far'd)
That he had Eat and Drunk to such Excess,
'Twas past his Skill to tell, or theirs to guess.
That, As the Master, so the Dog, is lov'd;
An equal Strain of Courtesy express'd,
And pray'd his Neighbour-Dog to be his Guest.
187
To please his Friend, but more himself agreed;
And when his Master thought it Time to go,
He stretch'd himself, and yawn'd, and travel'd too.
He came, was introduc'd by his Comrade,
And to the Kitchin his Devotion paid.
He saw there was a noble Bill of Fare,
And, when his Dishes he had chose with Care,
He lick'd his Lips, and wagg'd his Tail, for Joy,
To think how well he shou'd his Teeth employ:
At last, discover'd by the hasty Cook,
Who wou'd not there such loose Companions brook,
He found Dame Fortune's Smiles a meer Caprice,
His Hopes were disappointed in a trice:
He got a Knock or two, without a Bit,
And, e're he tasted Roast-Meat, felt the Spit;
Then by the Tail was three times hurl'd about,
And, like a Dog that Pudding stole, thrown out.
Asham'd, and troubl'd that his Stars so lour'd,
He yaul'd, betook him to his Heels, and scour'd;
But told his Fellow-Currs, (who soon repair'd
To know how well their Brother-Scrambler far'd)
That he had Eat and Drunk to such Excess,
'Twas past his Skill to tell, or theirs to guess.
| Truth in Fiction | |