University of Virginia Library


91

FABLE XI.

An Eagle pick'd up a young Lamb,
Carelessly sporting by her Dam,
Too feeble to protect and guard her:
Aloft you might have seen her swing,
Just like a Lamb on a hook-ring,
Swinging suspended in a larder.
The bird kept mounting to the sky,
Till, like a paper-kite,
Lessen'd each instant to the eye,
He vanish'd out of sight.
A Jack Daw on a steeple top,
First taking a delib'rate hop,
Resolv'd to try what he could do;
Resolv'd the Eagle to excell,
Down, like a bird of prey, he fell,
To seize, and carry off, the Ewe:
His feet entangled in the wool,
Neither Jack's wings nor paper-skull
Could rescue him from his mishap.

92

A Shepherd, summon'd by John's noise,
Took him, and, to divert his boys,
Trimm'd him, and gave him a fool's cap.
Now, Jack, said he, now, if you will,
Fancy yourself an Eagle still.—
So have I seen, you know the place,
A Coxcomb, with a Jack Daw's wit,
Rise, with a pert unmeaning face,
To emulate the Eagle Pitt;
As fit to speak or to reply,
As Æsop's Tortoise was to fly;
Struggle and strain to be distinguish'd,
Floundering and stammering evermore,
Then drop, eternally extinguish'd
In one contemptuous farewell roar.
'Tis pertness makes Jack hop and chatter;
Pertness makes all weak people weaker;
Nothing but courage, strength, and matter,
Can make a thunder-bearing speaker.