'Deserves not, if so soon offended, 'You, in your grotto-work enclos'd, 'And, as for you, my Lady Squeamish, Who reckon ev'ry touch a blemish, 'If all the plants that can be found 'Embellishing the scene around, 'Should droop and wither where they grow, You would not feel at all-not you. 'The noblest minds their virtue prove 'By pity, sympathy and love : These, these are feelings truly fine, · And prove their owner half divine.' His censure reach'd them as he dealt it, And each, by shrinking, shew'd he felt it. FABLE LVI. THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY. By Cowper. THE noon was shady, and soft airs My Spaniel, prettiest of his race, (Two nymphs* adorned with ev'ry grace That Spaniel found for me) Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds, Now starting into sight Pursu'd the swallow o'er the meads It was the time when Ouse display'd With cane extended far, I sought The daughters of Sir Robert Gunning. Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains But, with a chirrup clear and strong I thence withdrew, and follow'd long My ramble finish'd, I return'd; The floating wreath again discern'd, I saw him with that Lily cropp'd My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd Charm'd with the sight, the world,' I cried, Shall hear of this thy deed; My Dog shall mortify the pride 'Of Man's superior breed: 'But chief myself I will enjoin, 'Awake at duty's call, 'To shew a love as prompt as thine 'TO HIM WHO GIVES ME all.' FABLE LVII. VIRTUE AND VICE, OR THE EXPERIMENT. AN ALLEGORY. By Grenville. VIRTUE and Vice, two mighty powers, Their logic wasted, and their wit, On Hodge they fix, a country boor, Hodge grew at length polite and great, He swore, he drank, at play adept, Know, favour'd mortal, know, that I The pleasures of thy life supply; 'I rais'd thee from the clay-built cell, 'Where Want, Contempt and Slavery dwell: 'And (as each joy on earth is sold) To purchase all, I gave thee gold; This made the charms of beauty thine; This bless'd thee with the joys of wine; 'This gave thee, in the rich repast, 'Whate'er can please the tutor'd taste! 'Confess the blessings I bestow, • And pay the grateful thanks you owe.. 'My name is Vice!'-cried Hodge, and leer'd, · Long be your mighty name rever'd! 'Forbid it, Heav'n! thus bless'd by you, That I should rob you of your due; "To Wealth, 'twas you that made me heir, 'And gave, for which I thank you, Care; 'Wealth brought me wine, 'twas past a doubt, 'And wine-see here's a leg!-the gout: To wealth, my Friend, ragouts I owe, 'Whence scurvy, pains and asthmas flow; |