 | Miscellany Poems |  |
Plutarch's Serpent.
A subtle Serpent, that long time did reign
O're all the Subjects of the spacious Plain;
That often to old Age did Youth afford
And with his cast-off Skin new strength restor'd;
In his Divided bosome long did bear
The fatal seeds of an Intestine war.
Th' Ambitious Tail, that long time had been led
(And Justly too) by Conduct of the Head,
To Jove complain'd, that now it was but due,
That he should Govern for a Day or two.
In anger Jove did to the prayer consent
To teach Ambitious Fools to be content;
And a Decree unalterable made,
That in no case the Head should lend his Aid.
O're all the Subjects of the spacious Plain;
That often to old Age did Youth afford
And with his cast-off Skin new strength restor'd;
In his Divided bosome long did bear
The fatal seeds of an Intestine war.
Th' Ambitious Tail, that long time had been led
(And Justly too) by Conduct of the Head,
61
That he should Govern for a Day or two.
In anger Jove did to the prayer consent
To teach Ambitious Fools to be content;
And a Decree unalterable made,
That in no case the Head should lend his Aid.
The Tail, a part of great Activity,
But with a curse annext, It cannot see,
With haughty Pride assumes the fatal state,
And makes the once-commanding Head to wait:
What was his Lord doth in proud Triumph draw,
And now despises what once gave the Law.
Proud of the Government thrô Woods he hies,
O're Rocks and fatal Precipices flies.
The Head beholds the Danger and doth fear,
The stupid Tail hath neither Eye, nor Ear;
Nor Reason to perceive, when Danger's near.
Till, after many dreadfull Perils past,
The wrigling Tail in narrow holes at last,
And dark blind Caverns, is past help set fast.
Forward he cannot, backward must not move,
And no way's left, but to Petition Jove.
Jove is implor'd, but's Deaf unto the cry,
In the deserved plague doth let him die;
And to the World doth a sad warning shew,
“What, when the Rabble governs, will ensue.
But with a curse annext, It cannot see,
With haughty Pride assumes the fatal state,
And makes the once-commanding Head to wait:
What was his Lord doth in proud Triumph draw,
And now despises what once gave the Law.
Proud of the Government thrô Woods he hies,
O're Rocks and fatal Precipices flies.
The Head beholds the Danger and doth fear,
The stupid Tail hath neither Eye, nor Ear;
Nor Reason to perceive, when Danger's near.
Till, after many dreadfull Perils past,
The wrigling Tail in narrow holes at last,
And dark blind Caverns, is past help set fast.
Forward he cannot, backward must not move,
And no way's left, but to Petition Jove.
Jove is implor'd, but's Deaf unto the cry,
In the deserved plague doth let him die;
And to the World doth a sad warning shew,
“What, when the Rabble governs, will ensue.
| Miscellany Poems | |