 | Aesop Dress'd |  |
The Fox and Wolf.
The Fox went on the search one Night,
The Moon had hung out all her light;
He sees her Image in a Well;
But what it was he could not tell;
Gets on the Bricks to look at ease:
At last concludes it is a Cheese:
One Bucket's down, the other up,
He jumps in that which was a-top,
And coming to the Water, sees
How little Skill he had in Cheese.
Poor Ren, remov'd from all Acquaintance,
Sits in the Bucket of Repentance;
And when the Rascal ought to have laid
The fault upon himself, it's said,
He blam'd his Stars, tho' I b'lieve rather
He curst the Moon, and all fair Weather.
Well, there he sat, and wish'd, no doubt on't,
For half his Tail that he was out on't:
Sometimes he rav'd and talk'd like mad,
And every thing came in his Head,
That to his purpose could be said.
Happy are those that don't love Cheese;
We may go downward when we please,
But to come back again, hoc opus,
All tricks are vain; my only hope is,
That Somebody as wise as I,
Hits on my Whim, or else I die.
Two Days are past; poor Animal,
Sees Nobody come near the Well;
And now old Time had in one Place,
Cut a good piece of Cynthia's Face;
For as he does all things, he eats her,
And takes a slice, where'er he meets her:
Volpene spies it, and it grieved him,
To see that spoil'd which had deceiv'd him,
Thinking his case was desperate:
When on the third Night pretty late,
A Wolf who could not sleep, because
He felt an itching in his Jaws,
Look'd into it; What are you there?
Says Ren; pray see what I got here;
It is a groaning Cheese, 'twas made
From Io's Milk, and Fannus had
The ordering of it, 'twould have been
Kept for Dame Juno's Lying in,
But she miscarry'd: I took off
This Corner; still there's Meat enough
For two or three, I thought on you,
Wish'd I might see you, and to shew,
How I esteem, love, and adore ye,
That Bucket's left on purpose for ye.
The silly Wolf believes, gets in,
And draws Volpene up again.
The Moon had hung out all her light;
He sees her Image in a Well;
But what it was he could not tell;
Gets on the Bricks to look at ease:
At last concludes it is a Cheese:
One Bucket's down, the other up,
He jumps in that which was a-top,
And coming to the Water, sees
How little Skill he had in Cheese.
Poor Ren, remov'd from all Acquaintance,
Sits in the Bucket of Repentance;
And when the Rascal ought to have laid
The fault upon himself, it's said,
He blam'd his Stars, tho' I b'lieve rather
He curst the Moon, and all fair Weather.
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For half his Tail that he was out on't:
Sometimes he rav'd and talk'd like mad,
And every thing came in his Head,
That to his purpose could be said.
Happy are those that don't love Cheese;
We may go downward when we please,
But to come back again, hoc opus,
All tricks are vain; my only hope is,
That Somebody as wise as I,
Hits on my Whim, or else I die.
Two Days are past; poor Animal,
Sees Nobody come near the Well;
And now old Time had in one Place,
Cut a good piece of Cynthia's Face;
For as he does all things, he eats her,
And takes a slice, where'er he meets her:
Volpene spies it, and it grieved him,
To see that spoil'd which had deceiv'd him,
Thinking his case was desperate:
When on the third Night pretty late,
A Wolf who could not sleep, because
He felt an itching in his Jaws,
Look'd into it; What are you there?
Says Ren; pray see what I got here;
It is a groaning Cheese, 'twas made
From Io's Milk, and Fannus had
The ordering of it, 'twould have been
Kept for Dame Juno's Lying in,
But she miscarry'd: I took off
This Corner; still there's Meat enough
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Wish'd I might see you, and to shew,
How I esteem, love, and adore ye,
That Bucket's left on purpose for ye.
The silly Wolf believes, gets in,
And draws Volpene up again.
The Moral.
Don't blame the stupid Animal,You credit things less probable;
And most Men easily give ear,
To what they either wish or fear.
| Aesop Dress'd | |