University of Virginia Library

I'd fain instruct you, pretty Bell,
How you most others might excel;
The Lesson's short, and mighty easy,
I scorn with long Harangues to teaze you;
Seem ignorant of what you are,
Is all you have to learn, my Fair!
For oh! It grieves me much to see,
Such Beauty lost in Vanity:
You're mighty pretty I'll allow,
But yet, proud Nymph! I've seen e'er now,
A Shape, an Air, a Lip, an Eye,
That with the stately Bell's might vie;
Your Air's majestic, Shape too fine,
But don't mistake them for Divine:
Ah! let not hateful Pride debase,
So fine a Form, so fair a Face;
Reflect if e'er the Grave and Wise,
Should once your Conduct scrutinize;
How poignant then your Grief to see,
A homely Maid preferr'd to thee;
Vouchsafe the Fable to peruse,
And profit by the Moral Muse.

Once on a Silver Stream a Swan,
Grand and majestic sail'd along;
Her glossy Pinions proudly rear'd,
Whiter than driven Snow appear'd;
Waving with ev'ry wanton Gale,
And form'd between, a downy Vale;
In the reflecting Stream with Pride,
Raptur'd to see her Shadow glide;
In Ecstasy she oft would cry,
Was ever Swan so white as I?
No Mortal sure did ever see,
So grand, so fine a Bird as me;
No Brilliant Diamond e'er can vye
With this same curious Chrystal Eye;
Tell me what Architect can shew,
So regular, so true a Bow,
As is this arched Neck of Snow?
What can surpass this Foot and Thigh;
Alabaster this—that Ebony?
Like to a Marble Pillar set,
On Pedestal of blackest Jett:
Fam'd Leda's Swan, why what was he?
A simple Goose compar'd with me.

An honest Gander feeding by,
Listen'd, and heard this Rhapsody;
Fir'd with Indignation, crys,
“Your Pride I heartily despise;
“A simple Goose, for aught I see,
“May be as wise, forsooth, as thee:
The Swan retorts—“As handsome too;
“You think, perhaps, these Praises due
“To such a clumsey Bird as you:”
“Ah! cease, the Gander crys, in short,
“You're vain beyond the Cure of Art;
“But know, it is not my Intent,
“Proud Swan, to hold an Argument;
“But if you will, I'll here apply,
“To know who's wrong, Ma'am, you or I.”
An Owl then having perch'd before 'em,
Grave as a Justice of the Quorum:
“Agreed, he cry'd, and Face to Face,
“Pray, Mr. Wisdom! state the Case.”
He fairly did; when grave Sir John,
Accosting thus the haughty Swan;
“Ah! void of Sense! pray learn, he cry'd,
“Vain Boaster of a fair Outside!
“Who e'er submits to be a Tool
“To Vanity, becomes a Fool;
“And Fools and Coxcombs all despise,
“All who are worth our Note—the Wise.”
The Gander pleas'd, now smiling said,
“I think, good Ma'm, you seem dismay'd;
“You see I've fairly gain'd my Cause,
“And justly merit some Applause;
“But that a clumsey Bird like me,
“Must never hope to gain from thee.”
Stung to the Heart with this Retort,
Th'enraged Swan reply'd, in short,
“Rather than herd with such a Dunce,
“I'd rush on certain Death at once;
“I scorn the Thought, I'd have you know,
“I am not fallen yet so low;
“Before I'd live with such a Fool,
“I'd spend my Days in yonder's Pool;
“Nay, I wouldn't see thy Face again,
“To swim sole Monarch of the Main.”
Now fearful least she should betray
Her Grief—she proudly sail'd away;
To a retired Fountain came,
In Solitude to hide her Shame,
Where from her hated Rival free,
Alone she wail'd her Misery;
On Death she call'd to ease her Pain,
She often call'd, nor call'd in vain;
With Grief o'ercharg'd, th'expiring Swan
Began to chaunt her dying Song:
The Fountain now a while forbore,
Her bubbling Waters ceas'd to pour;
The murm'ring Rill that stole hard by,
Stood list'ning to her Melody;
Charm'd with her soft expiring Strains,
The loud Cascade its Fall restrains;
In gentle Drops did Homage pay,
To this her last harmonious Lay;
The feather'd Songsters all around,
Attracted by the dulcet Sound;
Flagged their little Wings, and cry'd,
“Ah! see the sad Effects of Pride.