Aesop Dress'd :: :: University of Virginia Library

In Ancient times, when Jupiter
Was pretty free, a Labourer,
That earn'd his Bread with cleaving Wood,
Lost with his Ax his Livelyhood.
'Twould grieve ones Heart to hear what sad
And pitious moan the Fellow made:
He had no Tools to sell again,
And buy another Ax, poor Man!
It was his All, and what to do,
Or how to live he does not know,
And as the Tears stood in his Eyes,
My Ax! O my dear Ax! he cries:
Sweet loving Jupiter! restore
My Ax. Olympus hear his roar;
And Mercury the Post-Boy, or
The Flying Post (his Character
Suits either for he's God of Lying
Beardless, and fam'd for News and Flying.)

Came to the Labourer, and said,
Your Ax in't lost, cheer up, my Lad:
I've got it here; but can you tell
Which is your own? I very well,
Quoth he. Says Mercury take hold,
And gives him one of Massy Gold;
To this, quoth th'other, I've no claim,
To a Silver one he said the same:
But when his Iron one was shewn,
He cries, I Faix this is mine own;
God bless you, Sir. And Mercury
Said, to reward his Honesty,
Th'are all your own, I give 'em ye.
The Story's quickly nois'd about;
The way to Riches is found out:
'Tis but to lose one', Ax; the Fools,
That had none, sold their Cloaths and Tools
To get one; and whate'er they cost,
They're bought in order to be lost.
The God of Thieves and Merchants, who
By chance had nothing else to do,
Came as they call'd; his Deity
Gave every one the choice of three:
The lying Rogues deny'd their own,
And swore they lost a Golden one:
But as they stoop for't, Mercury
Chops off their Heads, and there they lie.

The Moral.

The Fable shews you, Honesty
Is always the best Policy.