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FABLE XII.
The Two Springs.
------ Errat longè meâ quidem Sententiâ
Qui imperium credat gravius esse aut stabilius
Vi quod fit, quàm illud quod Amicitiâ adjungitur.
Ter.
Qui imperium credat gravius esse aut stabilius
Vi quod fit, quàm illud quod Amicitiâ adjungitur.
Ter.
1.
Two Sister Springs, from the same Parent HillBorn on the same propitious Day,
Thro' the cleft Rock distill:
Adown the rev'rend Mountain's side,
Thro' Groves of Myrtle glide,
Or thro' the Violet Beds obliquely stray.
The Laurel, each proud Victor's Crown,
From them receives her high Renown,
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Her Clusters big with racy Wine,
To them her Oil the peaceful Olive owes,
And her Vermilion Blush the Rose.
The gracious Streams in smooth Meanders flow,
To ev'ry thirsty Root dispense
Their kindly cooling Influence,
And Paradise adorns the Mountain's Brow.
2.
But oh! the sad Effect of Pride!These happy Twins at last divide.
“Sister (exclaims th' Ambitious Spring)
“What Profit do these Labours bring?
Always to give, and never to enjoy,
“A fruitless and a mean Employ.
“Stay here inglorious if you please,
And loiter out a Life of Indolence and Ease:
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“And nurse each Shrub, your daily Care,
“While pouring down from this my lofty Source,
“I deluge all the Plain,
“No Dams shall stop my course,
“And Rocks oppose in vain.
“See where my foaming Billows flow,
“Above the Hills my Waves aspire,
“The Shepherds and their Flocks retire,
“And tallest Cedars as they pass in sign of Homage bow.
“To me each tributary Spring
“Its supplemental Stores shall bring,
“With me the Rivers shall unite,
“The Lakes beneath my Banners fight,
“Till the proud Danube and the Rhine
“Shall own their Fame eclips'd by mine;
“Both Gods and Men shall dread my watry Sway,
“Nor—these in Citys safe, nor in their Temples they.
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3.
Away the haughty Boaster flewScarce bid her Sister Stream a cool Adieu,
Her Waves grow turbulent and bold,
Not gently murm'ring as of old,
But roughly dash against the Shore,
And toss their spumy Heads, and proudly roar.
The careful Farmer with surprize,
Sees the tumultuous Torrent rise;
With busy Looks the Rustick Band appear,
To guard their growing Hopes, the Promise of the Year.
All Hands unite, with Dams they bound
The rash rebellious Stream around;
In vain she foams, in vain she raves,
In vain she curls her feeble Waves,
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Her Source exhausted and her Channel dry'd,
(Such is the Fate of Impotence and Pride;)
A shallow Pond she stands confin'd,
The Refuge of the Croaking Kind.
Rushes and Sags, an inbred Foe,
Choak up the muddy Pool below,
The Tyrant Sun on high
Exacts his usual Subsidy,
And the poor Pittance that remains,
Each gapeing Cranny drains.
Too late the Fool repents, her haughty Boast,
A nameless Nothing, in Oblivion lost.
4.
Her Sister Spring, benevolent and kind,With joy sees all around her blest,
The Good she does, into her gen'rous Mind
Returns again with Interest.
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When Sirius nips the tender Blade,
Her Streams a sure Elixir bring,
Gay Plenty decks the Fields, and a perpetual Spring.
Where'er the Gard'ner smooths her easy way,
Her ductile Streams obey.
Courteous she visits ev'ry Bed,
Narcissus rears his drooping Head,
By her diffusive Bounty fed.
Reviv'd from her indulgent Urn,
Sad Hyacinth forgets to mourn,
Rich in the Blessings she bestows,
All Nature smiles where'er she flows.
Enamour'd with a Nymph so fair,
See where the River Gods appear.
A Nymph so eminently good,
The Joy of all the Neighbourhood;
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And riot in th' abundance of her Charms.
Like old Alpheus fond, their wanton Streams they join'd,
Like Arethusa she, as lovely, and as kind.
5.
Now swell'd into a mighty Flood,Her Channel deep and wide,
Still she persists in doing good,
Her Bounty flows with ev'ry Tide.
A thousand Riv'lets in her Train,
With fertile Waves enrich the Plain:
The scaly Herd, a num'rous Throng,
Beneath her silver Billows glide along,
Whose still increasing Shoals supply
The poor Man's Wants, the Great one's Luxury:
Here all the feather'd Troops retreat,
Securely ply their oary Feet,
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And with their tuneful Notes resound her Praise.
Here Flocks, and Herds, in safety feed,
And fatten in each flow'ry Mead:
No Beasts of Prey appear
The Watchful Shepherd to beguile,
No Monsters of the Deep inhabit here,
Nor the voracious Shark, nor wily Crocodile;
But Delia, and her Nymphs, chaste Silvan Queen,
By Mortals prying Eyes unseen,
Bath in her Flood, and sport upon her Borders green.
Here Merchants, careful of their Store,
By angry Billows tost,
Anchor secure beneath her Shore,
And bless the friendly Coast.
Soon mighty Fleets in all their Pride
Triumphant on her Surface ride:
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An hundred diff'rent Tongues she hears.
At last, with Wonder, and Surprize,
She sees a stately City rise;
With Joy the happy Flood admires
The lofty Domes, the pointed Spires;
The Portico's, magnificently great,
Where all the crouding Nations meet;
The Bridges that adorn her Brow,
From Bank to Bank their ample Arches stride,
Thro' which, her curling Waves in triumph glide,
And in melodious Murmurs flow.
Now grown a Port of high Renown,
The Treasure of the World her own,
Both Indies with their precious Stores,
Pay yearly Tribute to her Shores.
Honour'd by all, a rich, well-peopl'd Stream,
Nor Father Thames himself of more Esteem.
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MORAL.
The Pow'r of Kings (if rightly understood)Is but a Grant from Heav'n of doing Good.
Proud Tyrants, who maliciously destroy,
And ride o'er Ruins with malignant Joy;
Humbled in Dust, soon to their cost shall know
Heav'n our Avenger, and Mankind their Foe;
While gracious Monarchs reap the Good they sow:
Blessing, are bless'd; far spreads their just Renown,
Consenting Nations their Dominion own,
And joyful happy Crouds support their Throne.
In vain the Pow'rs of Earth and Hell combine,
Each Guardian Angel shall protect that Line,
Who by their Virtues prove their Right Divine.
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