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• If men the higher pow'r 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 dress’d, • Secure from ev'ry ill we rest.
Survey our curious structure well-
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.
Survey our garden's 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.
* 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.
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 tow'ring fight, * 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?
For truth it is, since Adam's fall,
• No man's exempted by his purse, * Kings are included in the curse. • Would 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 shew, • That joys in equal currents flow; • That happiness is still the same, • Howe'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 cheerful 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 XLI.
THE FARMER AND THE HORSE.
By Dr. Cotton.
« 'Tis a vain world, and all things shew it, . I thought so once, but now I know it *.'
Ah! Gay! is thy poetic page
But, grant, that this experienc'd truth
A Farmer, with a pensive brow, One morn accompanied his plough. The larks their cheerful matins sung, The woods with answering music rung; ::: The sun display'd his golden ray, is! And Nature hail'd the rising day. :!!;..!7.1 But still the peasant all the while stretch,SI Refus’d to join the general smile. He, like his fathers long before, con 1954 Resembled much the Jews of yore;b 00 Whose murmurs, impious, weak and vain, Nor quails, nor manna could restrain. ir
Did accidental death prevail ? 918 How prone to tell his piteous tale! :) ?. Pregnant with joys did plenty rise ? 0 cod. How prone to blame indulgent skies ! ! Bakit Thus ever ready to complain, í gut wie op For plenty, sinks the price of grain. i vion..
At length he spake: Thou Power divine ! Was ever lot so hard as mine ?janib • From infant life an arrant slave, 2 Vinstri • Close to the confines of the grave. t his,'
Have not I follow'd my employ bef!1:. • Near threescore winters, man and boy? • But, since I call'd this farm my own, niti • What scenes of sorrow have I known! . * Alas! if all the truth were told, aru INET • Hath not the rot impair'd my fold? 2. 0 • Hath not the measles seiz'd my swine? 14 • Hath not the murrain slain my kine ? ! i