FABLE XIII. The Crabs.
Look at Home.
An Ebbing Tide had left the naked Strand,
And two large Crabs that crawl'd along the Sand.
The tender Mother, and her hopeful Child,
Thus by their Native Element beguil'd,
Labour'd, the refluous Water to regain,
But their slow Pace made their Endeavour vain.
While long they rambl'd on the Ouzy Shore,
And the young Spark, as nimblest, got before;
The Dam observ'd her Son mov'd retrograde:
And, tho' her self as ill a Figure made,
Condemn'd the Youngster for his aukward Gate,
And bid him, angrily, for shame, go straight.
The Son reply'd, Pray, Madam, lead the Way,
And I will follow whom I must obey.
The MORAL.
‘Men with their Neighbours Failings oft' make bold,
‘But scarce their own, tho' greater, will behold:
‘They look abroad, with a too curious Eye,
‘But no domestick Turpitudes espy.
‘Let all who are thus critically Nice,
‘Be first assur'd themselves are free from Vice;
‘Lest, while they others Faults too freely blame,
‘As sharp Returns expose their own with Shame.
‘In those, who with their guilty Selves dispense,
‘And Others tax, 'tis shameless Impudence.
‘He only, that has clean'd his House before,
‘Shou'd blame the Dung-hill at his Neighbour's Door.
