Various pieces in verse and prose By the late Nathaniel Cotton. Many of which were never before published. In two volumes |
 | I. |
 | Various pieces in verse and prose |  |
1
FABLES.
FABLE I. The Bee, the Ant, and the Sparrow.
The Advantages of Application and Diligence in our earlier Years, and the destructive Consequences of Pride and Cruelty.
My dears, 'tis said in days of old,
That beasts could talk, and birds could scold.
But now it seems the human race
Alone engross the speaker's place.
Yet lately, if report be true,
(And much the tale relates to you)
There met a Sparrow, Ant, and Bee,
Which reason'd and convers'd as we.
Who reads my page will doubtless grant,
That Phe's the wise industrious Ant.
And all with half an eye may see,
That Kitty is the busy Bee.
Here then are two—But where's the third?
Go search your school, you'll find the Bird.
Your school! I ask your pardon, Fair,
I'm sure you'll find no Sparrow there.
That beasts could talk, and birds could scold.
But now it seems the human race
Alone engross the speaker's place.
Yet lately, if report be true,
(And much the tale relates to you)
There met a Sparrow, Ant, and Bee,
Which reason'd and convers'd as we.
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That Phe's the wise industrious Ant.
And all with half an eye may see,
That Kitty is the busy Bee.
Here then are two—But where's the third?
Go search your school, you'll find the Bird.
Your school! I ask your pardon, Fair,
I'm sure you'll find no Sparrow there.
Now to my tale.—One summer's morn
A Bee rang'd o'er the verdant lawn;
Studious to husband every hour,
And make the most of every flow'r.
Nimble from stalk to stalk she flies,
And loads with yellow wax her thighs;
With which the artist builds her comb,
And keeps all tight and warm at home;
Or from the cowslip's golden bells
Sucks honey to enrich her cells;
Or every tempting rose pursues,
Or sips the lily's fragrant dews,
Yet never robs the shining bloom,
Or of its beauty, or perfume.
Thus she discharg'd in every way,
The various duties of the day.
A Bee rang'd o'er the verdant lawn;
Studious to husband every hour,
And make the most of every flow'r.
Nimble from stalk to stalk she flies,
And loads with yellow wax her thighs;
With which the artist builds her comb,
And keeps all tight and warm at home;
Or from the cowslip's golden bells
Sucks honey to enrich her cells;
Or every tempting rose pursues,
Or sips the lily's fragrant dews,
Yet never robs the shining bloom,
Or of its beauty, or perfume.
3
The various duties of the day.
It chanc'd a frugal Ant was near,
Whose brow was furrow'd o'er by care:
A great œconomist was she,
Nor less laborious than the Bee;
By pensive parents often taught
What ills arise from want of thought;
That poverty on sloth depends,
On poverty the loss of friends.
Hence every day the Ant is found
With anxious steps to tread the ground;
With curious search to trace the grain,
And drag the heavy load with pain.
Whose brow was furrow'd o'er by care:
A great œconomist was she,
Nor less laborious than the Bee;
By pensive parents often taught
What ills arise from want of thought;
That poverty on sloth depends,
On poverty the loss of friends.
Hence every day the Ant is found
With anxious steps to tread the ground;
With curious search to trace the grain,
And drag the heavy load with pain.
The active Bee with pleasure saw
The Ant fulfil her parents law.
Ah! sister-labourer, says she,
How very fortunate are we!
Who taught in infancy to know,
The comforts which from labour flow,
Are independent of the Great,
Nor know the wants of pride and state.
Why is our food so very sweet?
Because we earn before we eat.
Why are our wants so very few?
Because we Nature's calls pursue.
Whence our complacency of mind?
Because we act our parts assign'd.
Have we incessant tasks to do?
Is not all Nature busy too?
Doth not the sun with constant pace
Persist to run his annual race?
Do not the stars which shine so bright,
Renew their courses every night?
Doth not the ox obedient bow
His patient neck, and draw the plow?
Or when did e'er the generous steed
Withhold his labour or his speed?
If you all Nature's system scan,
The only idle thing is Man.
The Ant fulfil her parents law.
Ah! sister-labourer, says she,
How very fortunate are we!
Who taught in infancy to know,
The comforts which from labour flow,
Are independent of the Great,
Nor know the wants of pride and state.
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Because we earn before we eat.
Why are our wants so very few?
Because we Nature's calls pursue.
Whence our complacency of mind?
Because we act our parts assign'd.
Have we incessant tasks to do?
Is not all Nature busy too?
Doth not the sun with constant pace
Persist to run his annual race?
Do not the stars which shine so bright,
Renew their courses every night?
Doth not the ox obedient bow
His patient neck, and draw the plow?
Or when did e'er the generous steed
Withhold his labour or his speed?
If you all Nature's system scan,
The only idle thing is Man.
A wanton Sparrow long'd to hear
This sage discourse, and strait drew near.
The Bird was talkative and loud,
And very pert, and very proud;
As worthless and as vain a thing
Perhaps as ever wore a wing.
She found, as on a spray she sat,
The little friends were deep in chat;
That virtue was their favourite theme,
And toil and probity their scheme:
Such talk was hateful to her breast,
She thought them arrant prudes at best.
When to display her naughty mind,
Hunger with cruelty combin'd;
She view'd the ant with savage eyes,
And hopt, and hopt to snatch her prize.
The Bee, who watch'd her opening bill,
And guess'd her fell design to kill;
Ask'd her from what her anger rose,
And why she treated Ants as foes?
This sage discourse, and strait drew near.
The Bird was talkative and loud,
And very pert, and very proud;
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Perhaps as ever wore a wing.
She found, as on a spray she sat,
The little friends were deep in chat;
That virtue was their favourite theme,
And toil and probity their scheme:
Such talk was hateful to her breast,
She thought them arrant prudes at best.
When to display her naughty mind,
Hunger with cruelty combin'd;
She view'd the ant with savage eyes,
And hopt, and hopt to snatch her prize.
The Bee, who watch'd her opening bill,
And guess'd her fell design to kill;
Ask'd her from what her anger rose,
And why she treated Ants as foes?
The Sparrow her reply began,
And thus the conversation ran.
And thus the conversation ran.
Whenever I'm dispos'd to dine,
I think the whole creation mine;
That I'm a bird of high degree,
And every insect made for me.
Hence oft I search the Emmet brood,
For Emmets are delicious food.
And oft in wantonness and play,
I slay ten thousand in a day:
For truth it is, without disguise,
That I love mischief as my eyes.
I think the whole creation mine;
That I'm a bird of high degree,
And every insect made for me.
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For Emmets are delicious food.
And oft in wantonness and play,
I slay ten thousand in a day:
For truth it is, without disguise,
That I love mischief as my eyes.
Oh! fie, the honest Bee reply'd,
I fear you make base man your guide.
Of every creature sure the worst,
Tho' in creation's scale the first!
Ungrateful man! 'tis strange he thrives,
Who burns the Bees to rob their hives!
I hate his vile administration,
And so do all the Emmet nation.
What fatal foes to birds are men,
Quite from the eagle to the wren!
Oh! do not men's example take,
Who mischief do for mischief's sake;
But spare the Ant—her worth demands
Esteem and friendship at your hands.
A mind, with every virtue blest,
Must raise compassion in your breast.
I fear you make base man your guide.
Of every creature sure the worst,
Tho' in creation's scale the first!
Ungrateful man! 'tis strange he thrives,
Who burns the Bees to rob their hives!
I hate his vile administration,
And so do all the Emmet nation.
What fatal foes to birds are men,
Quite from the eagle to the wren!
Oh! do not men's example take,
Who mischief do for mischief's sake;
But spare the Ant—her worth demands
Esteem and friendship at your hands.
A mind, with every virtue blest,
Must raise compassion in your breast.
7
Virtue! rejoin'd the sneering bird,
Where did you learn that gothick word?
Since I was hatch'd I never heard
That virtue was at all rever'd.
But say it was the antients' claim,
Yet moderns disavow the name.
Unless, my dear, you read romances,
I cannot reconcile your fancies.
Virtue in fairy tales is seen
To play the goddess, or the queen;
But what's a queen without the pow'r,
Or beauty, child, without a dow'r?
Yet this is all that virtue brags;
At best 'tis only worth in rags.
Such whims my very heart derides,
Indeed you make me burst my sides.
Trust me, Miss Bee—to speak the truth,
I've copied man from earliest youth;
The same our taste, the same our school,
Passion and appetite our rule;
And call me Bird, or call me sinner,
I'll ne'er forego my sport or dinner.
Where did you learn that gothick word?
Since I was hatch'd I never heard
That virtue was at all rever'd.
But say it was the antients' claim,
Yet moderns disavow the name.
Unless, my dear, you read romances,
I cannot reconcile your fancies.
Virtue in fairy tales is seen
To play the goddess, or the queen;
But what's a queen without the pow'r,
Or beauty, child, without a dow'r?
Yet this is all that virtue brags;
At best 'tis only worth in rags.
Such whims my very heart derides,
Indeed you make me burst my sides.
Trust me, Miss Bee—to speak the truth,
I've copied man from earliest youth;
The same our taste, the same our school,
Passion and appetite our rule;
And call me Bird, or call me sinner,
I'll ne'er forego my sport or dinner.
8
A prowling Cat the miscreant spies,
And wide expands her amber eyes.
Near and more near Grimalkin draws,
She wags her tail, protends her paws;
Then springing on her thoughtless prey,
She bore the vicious bird away.
And wide expands her amber eyes.
Near and more near Grimalkin draws,
She wags her tail, protends her paws;
Then springing on her thoughtless prey,
She bore the vicious bird away.
Thus in her cruelty and pride,
The wicked, wanton Sparrow dy'd.
The wicked, wanton Sparrow dy'd.
FABLE II. The Scholar and the Cat.
That true Virtue consists in Action, and not in Speculation.
Labour entitles man to eat,
The idle have no claim to meat.
This rule must every station fit,
Because 'tis drawn from sacred writ.
And yet, to feed on such condition,
Almost amounts to prohibition.
Rome's priesthood wou'd be doom'd, I fear,
To eat soup maigre all the year.
And wou'd not Oxford's cloister'd son
By this hard statute be undone?
In truth, your poet, were he fed
No oft'ner than he earns his bread,
The vengeance of this law wou'd feel,
And often go without a meal.
The idle have no claim to meat.
This rule must every station fit,
Because 'tis drawn from sacred writ.
And yet, to feed on such condition,
Almost amounts to prohibition.
Rome's priesthood wou'd be doom'd, I fear,
To eat soup maigre all the year.
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By this hard statute be undone?
In truth, your poet, were he fed
No oft'ner than he earns his bread,
The vengeance of this law wou'd feel,
And often go without a meal.
It seem'd a Scholar and his Cat
Together join'd in social chat.
When thus the letter'd youth began—
Of what vast consequence is man!
Lords of this nether globe we shine,
Our tenure's held by right divine.
Here independence waves its plea,
All creatures bow the vassal knee.
Nor earth alone can bound our reign,
Ours is the empire of the main.
Together join'd in social chat.
When thus the letter'd youth began—
Of what vast consequence is man!
Lords of this nether globe we shine,
Our tenure's held by right divine.
Here independence waves its plea,
All creatures bow the vassal knee.
Nor earth alone can bound our reign,
Ours is the empire of the main.
True—man's a sovereign prince—but say,
What art sustains the monarch's sway.
Say from what source we fetch supplies,
'Tis here the grand enquiry lies.
Strength is not man's—for strength must suit
Best with the structure of a brute.
Nor craft nor cunning can suffice,
A fox might then dispute the prize.
To God-like Reason 'tis we owe
Our ball and sceptre here below.
What art sustains the monarch's sway.
Say from what source we fetch supplies,
'Tis here the grand enquiry lies.
Strength is not man's—for strength must suit
Best with the structure of a brute.
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A fox might then dispute the prize.
To God-like Reason 'tis we owe
Our ball and sceptre here below.
Now your associate next explains
To whom precedence appertains.
And sure 'tis easy to divine
The leaders of this royal line.
Note that all tradesmen I attest
But petty princes at the best.
Superior excellence you'll find
In those, who cultivate the mind.
Hence heads of colleges, you'll own,
Transcend th'assessors of a throne.
Say, Evans, have you any doubt?
You can't offend by speaking out.
To whom precedence appertains.
And sure 'tis easy to divine
The leaders of this royal line.
Note that all tradesmen I attest
But petty princes at the best.
Superior excellence you'll find
In those, who cultivate the mind.
Hence heads of colleges, you'll own,
Transcend th'assessors of a throne.
Say, Evans, have you any doubt?
You can't offend by speaking out.
With visage placid and sedate,
Puss thus address'd her learned mate.
Puss thus address'd her learned mate.
We're told that none in Nature's plan
Disputes pre-eminence with man.
But this is still a dubious case
To me, and all our purring race.
We grant indeed to partial eyes
Men may appear supremely wise.
But our sagacious rabbies hold,
That all which glitters is not gold.
Pray, if your haughty claims be true,
Why are our manners ap'd by you?
Whene'er you think, all Cats agree,
You shut your optics, just as we.
Pray, why like Cats so wrapt in thought,
If you by Cats were never taught?
But know, our tabby schools maintain
Worth is not center'd in the brain.
Not that our sages thought despise—
No—but in action virtue lies.
We find it by experience fact,
That thought must ripen into act;
Or Cat no real fame acquires,
But virtue in the bud expires.
This point your orchard can decide—
Observe its gay autumnal pride.
For trees are held in high repute,
Not for their blossoms, but their fruit.
If so, then Millar's page decrees
Mere Scholars to be barren trees.
But if these various reasons fail,
Let my example once prevail.
Disputes pre-eminence with man.
But this is still a dubious case
To me, and all our purring race.
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Men may appear supremely wise.
But our sagacious rabbies hold,
That all which glitters is not gold.
Pray, if your haughty claims be true,
Why are our manners ap'd by you?
Whene'er you think, all Cats agree,
You shut your optics, just as we.
Pray, why like Cats so wrapt in thought,
If you by Cats were never taught?
But know, our tabby schools maintain
Worth is not center'd in the brain.
Not that our sages thought despise—
No—but in action virtue lies.
We find it by experience fact,
That thought must ripen into act;
Or Cat no real fame acquires,
But virtue in the bud expires.
This point your orchard can decide—
Observe its gay autumnal pride.
For trees are held in high repute,
Not for their blossoms, but their fruit.
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Mere Scholars to be barren trees.
But if these various reasons fail,
Let my example once prevail.
When to your chamber you repair,
Your property employs my care.
And while you sink in sweet repose,
My faithful eyelids never close.
When hunger prompts the mouse to steal,
Then I display my honest zeal;
True to my charge, these talons seize
The wretch, who dares purloin your cheese.
Or should the thief assault your bread,
I strike the audacious felon dead.
Your property employs my care.
And while you sink in sweet repose,
My faithful eyelids never close.
When hunger prompts the mouse to steal,
Then I display my honest zeal;
True to my charge, these talons seize
The wretch, who dares purloin your cheese.
Or should the thief assault your bread,
I strike the audacious felon dead.
Nor say I spring at smaller game—
My prowess slaughter'd rats proclaim.
I'm told, your generals often fly,
When danger, and when death are nigh.
Nay, when nor death nor danger's near,
As your court-martials make appear.
When in your service we engage,
We brave the pilfering villain's rage;
Ne'er take advantage of the night,
To meditate inglorious flight;
But stand resolv'd, when foes defy,
To conquer, or to bravely die.
My prowess slaughter'd rats proclaim.
I'm told, your generals often fly,
When danger, and when death are nigh.
Nay, when nor death nor danger's near,
As your court-martials make appear.
When in your service we engage,
We brave the pilfering villain's rage;
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To meditate inglorious flight;
But stand resolv'd, when foes defy,
To conquer, or to bravely die.
Hence, Bookworm, learn our duty here
Is active life in every sphere.
Know too, there's scarce a brute but can
Instruct vain supercilious man.
Is active life in every sphere.
Know too, there's scarce a brute but can
Instruct vain supercilious man.
FABLE III. Neptune and the Mariners.
That our Fortitude and Perseverance should be proportionate to the Degree and Duration of our Sufferings.
When sore calamities we feel,
And sorrow treads on sorrow's heel,
Our courage and our strength, we say,
Are insufficient for the day.
Thus man's a poor dejected elf,
Who fain would run away from self.
Yet turn to Germany, you'll find
An Atlas of a human mind!
But here I deviate from my plan,
For Prussia's king is more than man!
Inferior beings suit my rhime,
My scheme, my genius, and my time;
Men, birds, and beasts, with now and then
A pagan god, to grace my pen.
And sorrow treads on sorrow's heel,
Our courage and our strength, we say,
Are insufficient for the day.
Thus man's a poor dejected elf,
Who fain would run away from self.
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An Atlas of a human mind!
But here I deviate from my plan,
For Prussia's king is more than man!
Inferior beings suit my rhime,
My scheme, my genius, and my time;
Men, birds, and beasts, with now and then
A pagan god, to grace my pen.
A vessel bound for India's coast,
The merchants confidence and boast,
Puts forth to sea—the gentle deep
Bespeaks its boisterous god asleep.
Three chearful shouts the sailors gave,
And zephyrs curl the shining wave.
A halcyon sky prevails awhile,
The tritons and the nereids smile.
These omens fairest hopes impress,
And half insure the George success.
The merchants confidence and boast,
Puts forth to sea—the gentle deep
Bespeaks its boisterous god asleep.
Three chearful shouts the sailors gave,
And zephyrs curl the shining wave.
A halcyon sky prevails awhile,
The tritons and the nereids smile.
These omens fairest hopes impress,
And half insure the George success.
What casual ills these hopes destroy!
To change how subject every joy!
When dangers most remote appear,
Experience proves those dangers near.
Thus, boast of health whene'er you please,
Health is next neighbour to disease.
'Tis prudence to suspect a foe,
And fortitude to meet the blow.
In wisdom's rank he stands the first,
Who stands prepar'd to meet the worst.
To change how subject every joy!
When dangers most remote appear,
Experience proves those dangers near.
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Health is next neighbour to disease.
'Tis prudence to suspect a foe,
And fortitude to meet the blow.
In wisdom's rank he stands the first,
Who stands prepar'd to meet the worst.
For lo! unnumber'd clouds arise,
The sable legions spread the skies.
The storm around the vessel raves,
The deep displays a thousand graves.
With active hands and fearless hearts
The sailors play their various parts;
They ply the pumps, they furl the sails,
Yet nought their diligence avails.
The tempest thickens every hour,
And mocks the feats of human pow'r.
The sable legions spread the skies.
The storm around the vessel raves,
The deep displays a thousand graves.
With active hands and fearless hearts
The sailors play their various parts;
They ply the pumps, they furl the sails,
Yet nought their diligence avails.
The tempest thickens every hour,
And mocks the feats of human pow'r.
The sailors now their fate deplore,
Estrang'd to every fear before.
With wild surprise their eye-balls glare,
Their honest breasts admit despair.
All further efforts they decline,
At once all future hopes resign;
And thus abandoning their skill,
They give the ship to drive at will.
Estrang'd to every fear before.
With wild surprise their eye-balls glare,
Their honest breasts admit despair.
All further efforts they decline,
At once all future hopes resign;
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They give the ship to drive at will.
Strait enter'd with majestic grace,
A form of more than human race,
The god an azure mantle wore,
His hand a forked sceptre bore;
When thus the monarch of the main—
A form of more than human race,
The god an azure mantle wore,
His hand a forked sceptre bore;
When thus the monarch of the main—
How dare you deem your labours vain?
Shall man exert himself the less,
Because superior dangers press?
How can I think your hearts sincere,
Unless you bravely persevere?
Know, mortals, that when perils rise,
Perils enhance the glorious prize.
But, who deserts himself, shall be
Deserted by the gods and me.
Hence to your charge, and do your best,
My trident shall do all the rest.
Shall man exert himself the less,
Because superior dangers press?
How can I think your hearts sincere,
Unless you bravely persevere?
Know, mortals, that when perils rise,
Perils enhance the glorious prize.
But, who deserts himself, shall be
Deserted by the gods and me.
Hence to your charge, and do your best,
My trident shall do all the rest.
The mariners their task renew,
All to their destin'd province flew.
The winds are hush'd—the sea subsides,
The gallant George in safety rides.
All to their destin'd province flew.
The winds are hush'd—the sea subsides,
The gallant George in safety rides.
17
FABLE IV. The Beau and the Viper.
The Folly of passing a hasty and derogatory Judgment upon the noxious Animals of the Creation.
All wise philosophers maintain
Nature created nought in vain.
Yet some with supercilious brow,
Deny the truth asserted now.
What if I shew that only man,
Appears defective in the plan!
Say, will the sceptic lay aside
His sneers, his arrogance, and pride?
Nature created nought in vain.
Yet some with supercilious brow,
Deny the truth asserted now.
What if I shew that only man,
Appears defective in the plan!
Say, will the sceptic lay aside
His sneers, his arrogance, and pride?
A Beau, imported fresh from France,
Whose study was to dress and dance;
Who had betimes, in Gallia's school,
Grafted the coxcomb on the fool;
Approach'd a wood one summer's day,
To screen him from the scorching ray.
And as he travers'd thro' the grove,
Scheming of gallantry and love,
A Viper's spiry folds were seen,
Sparkling with azure, gold, and green;
The Beau indignant, weak, and proud,
With transport thus exclaim'd aloud:—
Whose study was to dress and dance;
Who had betimes, in Gallia's school,
Grafted the coxcomb on the fool;
Approach'd a wood one summer's day,
To screen him from the scorching ray.
And as he travers'd thro' the grove,
Scheming of gallantry and love,
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Sparkling with azure, gold, and green;
The Beau indignant, weak, and proud,
With transport thus exclaim'd aloud:—
Avaunt, detested fiend of night!
Thou torture to the human sight!
To every reptile a disgrace,
And fatal to our god-like race.
Why were such creatures form'd as you,
Unless to prove my doctrine true;
That when we view this nether sphere,
Nor wisdom nor design appear?
Thou torture to the human sight!
To every reptile a disgrace,
And fatal to our god-like race.
Why were such creatures form'd as you,
Unless to prove my doctrine true;
That when we view this nether sphere,
Nor wisdom nor design appear?
The Serpent rais'd his angry crest,
An honest zeal inflam'd his breast.
His hissings struck the fopling's ear,
And shook his very soul with fear.
Inglorious wretch! the Viper cries,
How dare you broach infernal lies?
Is there, in all creation's chain,
A link so worthless and so vain?
Grant that your dress were truly thine,
How can your gold compare with mine?
Your vestments are of garter hue,
Mine boast a far superior blue.
An honest zeal inflam'd his breast.
His hissings struck the fopling's ear,
And shook his very soul with fear.
Inglorious wretch! the Viper cries,
How dare you broach infernal lies?
Is there, in all creation's chain,
A link so worthless and so vain?
Grant that your dress were truly thine,
How can your gold compare with mine?
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Mine boast a far superior blue.
You style me Reptile in contempt,
You are that very reptile meant;
A two-legg'd thing which crawls on earth,
Void of utility and worth.
You are that very reptile meant;
A two-legg'd thing which crawls on earth,
Void of utility and worth.
You call me fatal to your race—
Was ever charge so false and base?
You can't in all your annals find,
That unprovok'd we hurt mankind.
Uninjur'd men in mischief deal,
We only bite the hostile heel.
Was ever charge so false and base?
You can't in all your annals find,
That unprovok'd we hurt mankind.
Uninjur'd men in mischief deal,
We only bite the hostile heel.
Do not we yield our lives to feed,
And save your vile distemper'd breed?
When leprosy pollutes your veins,
Do not we purge the loathsome stains?
When riot and excess prevail,
And health, and strength, and spirits fail;
Doctors from us their aid derive,
Hence penitential rakes revive.
We bleed to make the caitiffs dine,
Or drown to medicate their wine.
And save your vile distemper'd breed?
When leprosy pollutes your veins,
Do not we purge the loathsome stains?
When riot and excess prevail,
And health, and strength, and spirits fail;
Doctors from us their aid derive,
Hence penitential rakes revive.
We bleed to make the caitiffs dine,
Or drown to medicate their wine.
20
You ask, my poison to what end?
Minute philosopher, attend.
Minute philosopher, attend.
Nature, munificent and wise,
To all our wants adapts supplies.
Our frames are fitted to our need,
Hence greyhounds are endu'd with speed.
Lions by force their prey subdue,
By force maintain their empire too:
But power, altho' the lion's fame,
Was never known the Viper's claim.
Observe, when I unroll my length—
Say, is my structure form'd for strength?
Doth not celerity imply
Or legs to run, or wings to fly?
My jaws are constituted weak,
Hence poison lurks behind my cheek.
As lightning quick my fangs convey
This liquid to my wounded prey.
The venom thus insures my bite,
For wounds preclude the victim's flight.
To all our wants adapts supplies.
Our frames are fitted to our need,
Hence greyhounds are endu'd with speed.
Lions by force their prey subdue,
By force maintain their empire too:
But power, altho' the lion's fame,
Was never known the Viper's claim.
Observe, when I unroll my length—
Say, is my structure form'd for strength?
Doth not celerity imply
Or legs to run, or wings to fly?
My jaws are constituted weak,
Hence poison lurks behind my cheek.
As lightning quick my fangs convey
This liquid to my wounded prey.
The venom thus insures my bite,
For wounds preclude the victim's flight.
But why this deadly juice, you cry,
To make the wretched captive die?
Why not possess'd of stronger jaws,
Or arm'd like savage brutes with claws?
To make the wretched captive die?
21
Or arm'd like savage brutes with claws?
Can such weak arguments persuade?
Ask rather, why were Vipers made?
To me my poison's more than wealth,
And to ungrateful mortals health.
In this benevolent design
My various organs all combine.
Strike out the poison from my frame,
My system were no more the same.
I then should want my comforts due,
Nay, lose my very being too.
And you'd, as doctors all agree,
A sovereign medicine lose in me.
Ask rather, why were Vipers made?
To me my poison's more than wealth,
And to ungrateful mortals health.
In this benevolent design
My various organs all combine.
Strike out the poison from my frame,
My system were no more the same.
I then should want my comforts due,
Nay, lose my very being too.
And you'd, as doctors all agree,
A sovereign medicine lose in me.
Now learn, 'tis arrogance in man,
To censure what he cannot scan.
Nor dare to charge God's works with ill,
Since Vipers kind designs fulfil:
But give injurious scruples o'er,
Be still, be humble, and adore.
To censure what he cannot scan.
Nor dare to charge God's works with ill,
Since Vipers kind designs fulfil:
But give injurious scruples o'er,
Be still, be humble, and adore.
22
FABLE V. The Snail and the Gardener.
That Happiness is much more equally distributed, than the Generality of Mankind are apprized of.
When sons of fortune ride on high,
How do we point the admiring eye!
With foolish face of wonder gaze,
And often covet what we praise.
How do we partial Nature chide,
As deaf to every son beside!
Or censure the mistaken dame,
As if her optics were to blame!
Thus we deem Nature most unkind,
Or what's as bad, we deem her blind.
How do we point the admiring eye!
With foolish face of wonder gaze,
And often covet what we praise.
How do we partial Nature chide,
As deaf to every son beside!
Or censure the mistaken dame,
As if her optics were to blame!
Thus we deem Nature most unkind,
Or what's as bad, we deem her blind.
But when inferior ranks we see,
Who move in humbler spheres than we;
Men by comparisons are taught,
Nature is not so much in fault.
Yet mark my tale—the poet's pen
Shall vindicate her ways to men.
Who move in humbler spheres than we;
Men by comparisons are taught,
Nature is not so much in fault.
Yet mark my tale—the poet's pen
Shall vindicate her ways to men.
23
Within a garden, far from town,
There dwelt a Snail of high renown;
Who, by tradition as appears,
Had been a tenant several years.
She spent her youth in wisdom's page—
Hence honour'd and rever'd in age.
Do Snails at any time contend,
Insult a neighbour, or a friend;
Dispute their property, and share,
Or in a cherry, or a pear?
No lord chief justice, all agree,
So able, and so just as she!
Whichever way their causes went,
All parties came away content.
At length she found herself decay,
Death sent mementos every day.
Her drooping strength sustains no more
The shell, which on her back she bore.
The eye had lost its visual art,
The heavy ear refus'd its part;
The teeth perform'd their office ill,
And every member fail'd her will.
But no defects in mind appear,
Her intellects are strong and clear.
Thus when his glorious course is run,
How brightly shines the setting sun!
There dwelt a Snail of high renown;
Who, by tradition as appears,
Had been a tenant several years.
She spent her youth in wisdom's page—
Hence honour'd and rever'd in age.
Do Snails at any time contend,
Insult a neighbour, or a friend;
Dispute their property, and share,
Or in a cherry, or a pear?
No lord chief justice, all agree,
So able, and so just as she!
Whichever way their causes went,
All parties came away content.
At length she found herself decay,
Death sent mementos every day.
Her drooping strength sustains no more
The shell, which on her back she bore.
The eye had lost its visual art,
The heavy ear refus'd its part;
The teeth perform'd their office ill,
And every member fail'd her will.
24
Her intellects are strong and clear.
Thus when his glorious course is run,
How brightly shines the setting sun!
The news thro' all the garden spread,
The neighbours throng'd about her bed;
Chearful she rais'd her voice aloud,
And thus address'd the weeping crowd.
The neighbours throng'd about her bed;
Chearful she rais'd her voice aloud,
And thus address'd the weeping crowd.
My friends, I'm hast'ning to the grave,
And know, nor plum, nor peach can save.
Yes, to those mansions go I must,
Where our good fathers sleep in dust.
Nor am I backward to explore
That gloomy vale they trod before.
'Gainst fate's decree what can I say?
Like other Snails I've had my day.
Full many summer suns I've seen,
And now die grateful and serene.
And know, nor plum, nor peach can save.
Yes, to those mansions go I must,
Where our good fathers sleep in dust.
Nor am I backward to explore
That gloomy vale they trod before.
'Gainst fate's decree what can I say?
Like other Snails I've had my day.
Full many summer suns I've seen,
And now die grateful and serene.
If men the higher pow'rs arraign,
Shall we adopt the plaintive strain?
Nature, profuse to us and ours,
Hath kindly built these stately tow'rs;
Where, when the skies in night are drest,
Secure from every ill we rest.
Survey our curious structure well—
How firm, and yet how light our shell!
Our refuge, when cold storms invade,
And in the dog-days' heat our shade.
Shall we adopt the plaintive strain?
Nature, profuse to us and ours,
Hath kindly built these stately tow'rs;
25
Secure from every ill we rest.
Survey our curious structure well—
How firm, and yet how light our shell!
Our refuge, when cold storms invade,
And in the dog-days' heat our shade.
Thus when we see a fleeter race,
We'll not lament our languid pace.
Do dangers rise, or foes withstand?
Are not our castles close at hand?
For let a Snail at distance roam,
The happy Snail is still at home.
We'll not lament our languid pace.
Do dangers rise, or foes withstand?
Are not our castles close at hand?
For let a Snail at distance roam,
The happy Snail is still at home.
Survey our gardens blest retreats—
Oh! what a paradise of sweets!
With what variety it's stor'd!
Unnumber'd dainties spread our board.
The plums assume their glossy blue,
And cheeks of nectarines glow for you;
Peaches their lovely blush betray,
And apricots their gold display;
While for your beverage, when you dine,
There streams the nectar of the vine.
Oh! what a paradise of sweets!
With what variety it's stor'd!
Unnumber'd dainties spread our board.
The plums assume their glossy blue,
And cheeks of nectarines glow for you;
Peaches their lovely blush betray,
And apricots their gold display;
While for your beverage, when you dine,
There streams the nectar of the vine.
26
Be not my dying words forgot;
Depart, contented with your lot;
Repress complaints when they begin,
Ingratitude's a crying sin.
And hold it for a truth, that we
Are quite as blest as Snails should be.
Depart, contented with your lot;
Repress complaints when they begin,
Ingratitude's a crying sin.
And hold it for a truth, that we
Are quite as blest as Snails should be.
The Gardener hears with great surprise
This sage discourse, and thus he cries—
Oh! what a thankless wretch am I,
Who pass ten thousand favours by!
I blame, whene'er the linnet sings,
My want of song, or want of wings.
The piercing hawk, with towering flight,
Reminds me of deficient sight.
And when the generous steed I view,
Is not his strength my envy too?
I thus at birds and beasts repine,
And wish their various talents mine.
Fool as I am, who cannot see
Reason is more than all to me.
This sage discourse, and thus he cries—
Oh! what a thankless wretch am I,
Who pass ten thousand favours by!
I blame, whene'er the linnet sings,
My want of song, or want of wings.
The piercing hawk, with towering flight,
Reminds me of deficient sight.
And when the generous steed I view,
Is not his strength my envy too?
I thus at birds and beasts repine,
And wish their various talents mine.
Fool as I am, who cannot see
Reason is more than all to me.
My landlord boasts a large estate,
Rides in his coach, and eats in plate.
What! shall these lures bewitch my eye?
Shall they extort the murmuring sigh?
Say, he enjoys superior wealth—
Is not my better portion, health?
Before the sun has gilt the skies,
Returning labour bids me rise;
Obedient to the hunter's horn,
He quits his couch at early morn.
By want compell'd, I dig the soil,
His is a voluntary toil.
For truth it is, since Adam's fall,
His sons must labour, one and all.
No man's exempted by his purse,
Kings are included in the curse.
Wou'd monarchs relish what they eat?
'Tis toil that makes the manchet sweet;
Nature enacts, before they're fed,
That prince and peasant earn their bread.
Rides in his coach, and eats in plate.
27
Shall they extort the murmuring sigh?
Say, he enjoys superior wealth—
Is not my better portion, health?
Before the sun has gilt the skies,
Returning labour bids me rise;
Obedient to the hunter's horn,
He quits his couch at early morn.
By want compell'd, I dig the soil,
His is a voluntary toil.
For truth it is, since Adam's fall,
His sons must labour, one and all.
No man's exempted by his purse,
Kings are included in the curse.
Wou'd monarchs relish what they eat?
'Tis toil that makes the manchet sweet;
Nature enacts, before they're fed,
That prince and peasant earn their bread.
Hence wisdom and experience show,
That bliss in equal currents flow;
That happiness is still the same,
How'er ingredients change their name.
Nor doth this theme our search defy,
'Tis level to the human eye.
Distinctions, introduc'd by men,
Bewilder, and obscure our ken.
I'll store these lessons in my heart,
And chearful act my proper part.
If sorrows rise, as sorrows will,
I'll stand resign'd to every ill;
Convinc'd, that wisely every pack
Is suited to the bearer's back.
That bliss in equal currents flow;
That happiness is still the same,
How'er ingredients change their name.
28
'Tis level to the human eye.
Distinctions, introduc'd by men,
Bewilder, and obscure our ken.
I'll store these lessons in my heart,
And chearful act my proper part.
If sorrows rise, as sorrows will,
I'll stand resign'd to every ill;
Convinc'd, that wisely every pack
Is suited to the bearer's back.
FABLE VI. The Farmer and the Horse.
That the Complaints of Mankind, against their several Stations and Provinces in Life, are often frivolous, and always unwarrantable.
“'Tis a vain world, and all things show it,
“I thought so once, but now I know it .”
Ah! Gay! is thy poetic page
The child of disappointed age?
Talk not of threescore years and ten,
For what avails our knowledge then?
“I thought so once, but now I know it .”
Ah! Gay! is thy poetic page
The child of disappointed age?
29
For what avails our knowledge then?
But grant, that this experienc'd truth
Were ascertain'd in early youth;
Reader, what benefit would flow?
I vow, I'm at a loss to know.
The world alarms the human breast,
Because in savage colours drest.
'Tis treated with invective style,
And stands impeach'd of fraud and guile.
All in this heavy charge agree—
But who's in fault—the world, or we?
The question's serious, short, and clear,
The answer claims our patient ear.
Yet if this office you decline—
With all my heart—the task be mine.
I'm certain, if I do my best,
Your candour will excuse the rest.
Were ascertain'd in early youth;
Reader, what benefit would flow?
I vow, I'm at a loss to know.
The world alarms the human breast,
Because in savage colours drest.
'Tis treated with invective style,
And stands impeach'd of fraud and guile.
All in this heavy charge agree—
But who's in fault—the world, or we?
The question's serious, short, and clear,
The answer claims our patient ear.
Yet if this office you decline—
With all my heart—the task be mine.
I'm certain, if I do my best,
Your candour will excuse the rest.
A Farmer, with a pensive brow,
One morn accompany'd his plow.
The larks their chearful matins sung,
The woods with answering music rung;
The sun display'd his golden ray,
And Nature hail'd the rising day.
But still the peasant all the while
Refus'd to join the general smile.
He, like his fathers long before,
Resembled much the Jews of yore;
Whose murmurs impious, weak, and vain,
Nor quails nor manna could restrain.
One morn accompany'd his plow.
The larks their chearful matins sung,
The woods with answering music rung;
30
And Nature hail'd the rising day.
But still the peasant all the while
Refus'd to join the general smile.
He, like his fathers long before,
Resembled much the Jews of yore;
Whose murmurs impious, weak, and vain,
Nor quails nor manna could restrain.
Did accidental dearth prevail?
How prone to tell his piteous tale!
Pregnant with joys did plenty rise?
How prone to blame indulgent skies!
Thus ever ready to complain,
For plenty sinks the price of grain.
How prone to tell his piteous tale!
Pregnant with joys did plenty rise?
How prone to blame indulgent skies!
Thus ever ready to complain,
For plenty sinks the price of grain.
At length he spake:—Ye powers divine,
Was ever lot so hard as mine?
From infant life an arrant slave,
Close to the confines of the grave.
Have not I follow'd my employ
Near threescore winters, man and boy?
But since I call'd this farm my own,
What scenes of sorrow have I known!
Alas! if all the truth were told,
Hath not the rot impair'd my fold?
Hath not the measles seiz'd my swine?
Hath not the murrain slain my kine?
Or say that horses be my theme,
Hath not the staggers thinn'd my team?
Have not a thousand ills beside
Depriv'd my stable of its pride?
Was ever lot so hard as mine?
From infant life an arrant slave,
Close to the confines of the grave.
Have not I follow'd my employ
Near threescore winters, man and boy?
But since I call'd this farm my own,
What scenes of sorrow have I known!
31
Hath not the rot impair'd my fold?
Hath not the measles seiz'd my swine?
Hath not the murrain slain my kine?
Or say that horses be my theme,
Hath not the staggers thinn'd my team?
Have not a thousand ills beside
Depriv'd my stable of its pride?
When I survey my lands around,
What thorns and thistles spread my ground!
Doth not the grain my hopes beguile,
And mildews mock the thresher's toil?
However poor the harvests past,
What so deficient as the last!
But tho' nor blasts, nor mildews rise,
My turnips are destroy'd by flies;
My sheep are pin'd to such degree,
That not a butcher comes to me.
What thorns and thistles spread my ground!
Doth not the grain my hopes beguile,
And mildews mock the thresher's toil?
However poor the harvests past,
What so deficient as the last!
But tho' nor blasts, nor mildews rise,
My turnips are destroy'd by flies;
My sheep are pin'd to such degree,
That not a butcher comes to me.
Seasons are chang'd from what they were,
And hence too foul, or hence too fair.
Now scorching heat and drought annoy,
And now returning showers destroy.
Thus have I pass'd my better years
'Midst disappointments, cares, and tears.
And now, when I compute my gains,
What have I reap'd for all my pains?
And hence too foul, or hence too fair.
Now scorching heat and drought annoy,
And now returning showers destroy.
32
'Midst disappointments, cares, and tears.
And now, when I compute my gains,
What have I reap'd for all my pains?
Oh! had I known in manhood's prime
These slow convictions wrought by time;
Would I have brav'd the various woes
Of summer suns, and winter snows?
Would I have tempted every sky,
So wet, so windy, or so dry?
With all the elements at strife?
Ah! no—I then had plann'd a life,
Where wealth attends the middle stage,
And rest and comfort wait on age.
Where rot and murrain ne'er commence,
Nor pastures burn at my expence;
Nor injur'd cows their wants bewail,
Nor dairies mourn the milkless pail;
Nor barns lament the blasted grain,
Nor cattle curse the barren plain.
These slow convictions wrought by time;
Would I have brav'd the various woes
Of summer suns, and winter snows?
Would I have tempted every sky,
So wet, so windy, or so dry?
With all the elements at strife?
Ah! no—I then had plann'd a life,
Where wealth attends the middle stage,
And rest and comfort wait on age.
Where rot and murrain ne'er commence,
Nor pastures burn at my expence;
Nor injur'd cows their wants bewail,
Nor dairies mourn the milkless pail;
Nor barns lament the blasted grain,
Nor cattle curse the barren plain.
Dun hobbled by his master's side,
And thus the sober brute reply'd:—
And thus the sober brute reply'd:—
33
Look thro' your team, and where's the steed
Who dares dispute with me his breed?
Few horses trace their lineage higher,
Godolphin's Arab was my sire;
My dam was sprung from Panton's stud,
My grandam boasted Childers' blood.
But ah! it now avails me not
By what illustrious chief begot!
Spavins pay no regard to birth,
And failing vision sinks my worth.
The Squire, when he disgusted grew,
Transferr'd his property to you.
And since poor Dun “became your own,
“What scenes of sorrow have I known!”
Hath it not been my constant toil
To drag the plow, and turn the soil?
Are not my bleeding shoulders wrung
By large and weighty loads of dung?
When the shorn meadows claim your care,
And fragrant cocks perfume the air;
When Ceres' ripen'd fruits abound,
And Plenty waves her sheaves around;
True to my collar, home I bear
The treasures of the fruitful year.
And tho' this drudgery be mine,
You never heard me once repine.
Who dares dispute with me his breed?
Few horses trace their lineage higher,
Godolphin's Arab was my sire;
My dam was sprung from Panton's stud,
My grandam boasted Childers' blood.
But ah! it now avails me not
By what illustrious chief begot!
Spavins pay no regard to birth,
And failing vision sinks my worth.
The Squire, when he disgusted grew,
Transferr'd his property to you.
And since poor Dun “became your own,
“What scenes of sorrow have I known!”
Hath it not been my constant toil
To drag the plow, and turn the soil?
Are not my bleeding shoulders wrung
By large and weighty loads of dung?
When the shorn meadows claim your care,
And fragrant cocks perfume the air;
When Ceres' ripen'd fruits abound,
And Plenty waves her sheaves around;
34
The treasures of the fruitful year.
And tho' this drudgery be mine,
You never heard me once repine.
Yet what rewards have crown'd my days?
I'm grudg'd the poor reward of praise.
For oats small gratitude I owe,
Beans were untasted joys, you know.
And now I'm hast'ning to my end,
Past services can find no friend.
Infirmities, disease, and age,
Provoke my surly driver's rage.
Look to my wounded flanks, you'll see
No horse was ever us'd like me.
I'm grudg'd the poor reward of praise.
For oats small gratitude I owe,
Beans were untasted joys, you know.
And now I'm hast'ning to my end,
Past services can find no friend.
Infirmities, disease, and age,
Provoke my surly driver's rage.
Look to my wounded flanks, you'll see
No horse was ever us'd like me.
But now I eat my meals with pain,
Averse to masticate the grain.
Hence you direct, at night and morn,
That chaff accompany my corn;
For husks, altho' my teeth be few,
Force my reluctant jaws to chew.
What then? of life shall I complain,
And call it fleeting, false, and vain?
Against the world shall I inveigh,
Because my grinders now decay?
Averse to masticate the grain.
Hence you direct, at night and morn,
That chaff accompany my corn;
For husks, altho' my teeth be few,
Force my reluctant jaws to chew.
What then? of life shall I complain,
And call it fleeting, false, and vain?
35
Because my grinders now decay?
You think it were the wiser plan,
Had I consorted ne'er with man;
Had I my liberty maintain'd,
Or liberty by flight regain'd,
And rang'd o'er distant hills and dales
With the wild foresters of Wales.
Had I consorted ne'er with man;
Had I my liberty maintain'd,
Or liberty by flight regain'd,
And rang'd o'er distant hills and dales
With the wild foresters of Wales.
Grant I succeeded to my mind—
Is happiness to hills confin'd?
Don't famine oft erect her throne
Upon the rugged mountain's stone?
And don't the lower pastures fail,
When snows descending choke the vale?
Or who so hardy to declare
Disease and death ne'er enter there?
Is happiness to hills confin'd?
Don't famine oft erect her throne
Upon the rugged mountain's stone?
And don't the lower pastures fail,
When snows descending choke the vale?
Or who so hardy to declare
Disease and death ne'er enter there?
Do pains or sickness here invade?
Man tenders me his chearful aid.
For who beholds his hungry beast,
But grants him some supply at least?
Int'rest shall prompt him to pursue
What inclination would not do.
Man tenders me his chearful aid.
For who beholds his hungry beast,
But grants him some supply at least?
Int'rest shall prompt him to pursue
What inclination would not do.
36
Say, had I been the desert's foal,
Thro' life estrang'd to man's control;
What service had I done on earth,
Or who could profit by my birth?
My back had ne'er sustain'd thy weight,
My chest ne'er known thy waggon's freight;
But now my several powers combine
To answer Nature's ends and thine.
I'm useful thus in every view—
Oh! could I say the same of you!
Thro' life estrang'd to man's control;
What service had I done on earth,
Or who could profit by my birth?
My back had ne'er sustain'd thy weight,
My chest ne'er known thy waggon's freight;
But now my several powers combine
To answer Nature's ends and thine.
I'm useful thus in every view—
Oh! could I say the same of you!
Superior evils had ensu'd,
With prescience had I been endu'd.
Ills, tho' at distance seen, destroy,
Or sicken every present joy.
We relish every new delight,
When future griefs elude our sight.
To blindness then what thanks are due!
It makes each single comfort two.
The colt, unknown to pain and toil,
Anticipates tomorrow's smile.
Yon lamb enjoys the present hour,
As stranger to the butcher's power.
With prescience had I been endu'd.
Ills, tho' at distance seen, destroy,
Or sicken every present joy.
We relish every new delight,
When future griefs elude our sight.
To blindness then what thanks are due!
It makes each single comfort two.
The colt, unknown to pain and toil,
Anticipates tomorrow's smile.
Yon lamb enjoys the present hour,
As stranger to the butcher's power.
37
Your's is a wild Utopian scheme,
A boy would blush to own your dream.
Be your profession what it will,
No province is exempt from ill.
Quite from the cottage to the throne,
Stations have sorrows of their own.
Why should a peasant then explore
What longer heads ne'er found before?
Go, preach my doctrine to your son,
By your's, the lad would be undone.
But whether he regards or not,
Your lecture would be soon forgot.
The hopes which gull'd the parent's breast,
Ere long will make his son their jest.
Tho' now these cobweb cheats you spurn,
Yet every man's a dupe in turn.
And wisely so ordain'd, indeed,
(Whate'er philosophers may plead).
Else life would stagnate at its source,
And Man, and Horse decline the course.
A boy would blush to own your dream.
Be your profession what it will,
No province is exempt from ill.
Quite from the cottage to the throne,
Stations have sorrows of their own.
Why should a peasant then explore
What longer heads ne'er found before?
Go, preach my doctrine to your son,
By your's, the lad would be undone.
But whether he regards or not,
Your lecture would be soon forgot.
The hopes which gull'd the parent's breast,
Ere long will make his son their jest.
Tho' now these cobweb cheats you spurn,
Yet every man's a dupe in turn.
And wisely so ordain'd, indeed,
(Whate'er philosophers may plead).
Else life would stagnate at its source,
And Man, and Horse decline the course.
Then bid young Ralpho never mind it,
But take the world as he shall find it.
But take the world as he shall find it.
| Various pieces in verse and prose | |