Poems on several subjects

Not unto you, but to all those
That know me, whether friends or foes.
Let my complaint with echoes sound,
With doleful notes to all around,
That all, whoever heard my name,
May judge how far I am to blame.

I'm blam'd, tho' guiltless, for a crime
I know no more of, than the time
When I'm to die: and oh! 'tis hard
To be from my best friend debar'd
By scandalous reports, the which
My very heart and vitals touch.
All birds and beasts, yea, and the best,
Their friendship unto me express'd,
And gave me good encouragement
If I did either sing or chant:

But now I'm ruin'd, and my name
Must sink with dire reproach and shame.
Because my friend, like Phœbus fair,
Doth influence each other star,
Who in conjunction will unite
To make my misery complete.
But my once worthy friend I'll not
E'er brand with such a nasty blot,
As for to say, or think, that he
Would take a prejudice at me:
Except some devil's imp of hell,
In wickedness that must excel,
To him had represented me
In such a scandalous degree.

Therefore this one thing shall I say,
As Jove's to judge the world one day,
The wretch that scandal'd me at first,
Escapes fair, if he's not accurs'd.

'Tis true to my experience
I never knew such exigence
As the last winter all my life,
Having five young ones and a wife,

114

But little income easy spent,
Yet never seem'd I discontent;
For if the sun did warmly blink,
Up in the air then would I clink,
And there chirp o'er a song of praise
To Jove in hopes of better days.
Tho' many time, as I'm a sinner,
I left my little homely dinner
To distribute among the rest,
And made diversion all my feast,
And slept for supper; seldom more
I eat but once in twenty four:
Yet none without my nest e'er knew
Whether my tripes were toom or fow.

Had it not been my gentle heart,
I had not acted such a part,
If I had to my friend reveal'd
What I industriously conceal'd:
For certain he some oars had laid
Some support for me to have made;
For many time, when unexpected,
Something for me he has collected;
Reliev'd me when in many strait.
But now, how wretched is my fate!
My name is torn, my friends are lost;
Now what remeed? despair I must.
Oh vengeance, vengeance, Heav'n take
Upon the wretch that first did make
My friend my honour to suspect,
And me with prejudice neglect!

When I think on the defamation
Of my good name, a perturbation
And agony sets all my soul
In fever like a burning coal:
It galls me to the heart to think
That e'er my character should shrink;
For tho' I am of low extraction,
I ever had the satisfaction,

115

So far back as tradition traces,
Or man remember can the faces
Of my progenitors, was not
In all our characters a blot.
Tho' I'm a poor and simple lark,
Yet all that know me can remark,
I love my honour and good name,
As the proud hero does his fame;
And all my intimate acquaintance
Will as soon trust that lofty mountains
Can be thrown down into the sea,
As there's dishonesty in me.

Besides, the crime I'm charg'd with may
Be seen, as clear as light by day,
To be as false an accusation
As e'er was heard of in the nation:

For my good friend had in his house
A tame she-fox, that did abuse
Him by imbezzlements; 'tis said
That I with her connivance had.

But none of all the feather'd kind
Was ever with false foxes join'd,
Especially the lark, a bird
That none offends by deed or word.
Our rules of life are innocent,
Not justly suff'ring detriment:
For in the morning when we rise
We soar aloft among the skies;
There chearfully we sing Jove's praise,
With warbling notes and easy lays;
We've gratitude, and pure good will
Towards our benefactors still;
We know no flatt'ry, fraud or guile,
Our fellow-creatures to beguile:
Ambition fires our little souls,
That lifts our thoughts above the poles;
So that we scorn that dirty way
That mankind call dishonesty.

116

Tho' I, of all the choir, myself
Am but a senseless silly elf;
Yet I defy all living creatures,
Tho' of the most malignant natures,
To prove in justice black's my eye
Relating to fair honesty.

I love my friends and benefactors,
And I forgive all my detracters;
Disdaining, as below me far,
Envy at any one to bear:
For ne'er a forest bird or beast
More gen'rous spirits e'er possess'd.

Perhaps by this I may offend
Him who was once my worthy friend:
But let him think in sober mood,
If wronged innocence be rude
To clear itself, when so put to it,
What blockhead is he would not do it?

I would not for broad Britain's rent
Defame a creature innocent,
Tho't were below my rank as far
As my old friend's superior.

'Tis murder, in the worst degree,
Thus to defame a creature free:
For me I'd rather choose to die,
Than to survive my honesty.

But the event I must refer
To mighty Jove, who cannot err,
Who governs all sublun'ry things,
And turns the hearts of mighty kings;
Therefore his mercy I'll implore,
Who can my innocence restore,
And will against that wretch declare
Dire vengeance, horror and despair,
That causeth my disquietude:
But my complaint I must conclude.

117

The MORAL.

Some are so bad they will not stand
E'en the most innocent to brand;
And when themselves are guilty found,
Their neighbours they will also wound;
And all men credits that report
That tends towards their neighbour's hurt.

University of Virginia Library

The Complaint of a Lark directed to a great Lion: A Fable; occasioned by another Lion being influenced by some evil Speaker, to suspect the honesty of the Lark.

The MORAL.