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Whistling he leap'd from leaf to leaf;

But what is music to the deaf?

At length, while poring on the ground, With monumental look profound, A curious vegetable caught His-something similar to thought : Wond'ring, he ponder'd stooping low, (Trelooby always loved a show) And on the Mandrake's vernal station, Star'd with prodigious observation. Th' affronted Mandrake, with a frown, Address'd in rage the wealthy clown: 'Proud member of the rambling race, 'That vegetate from place to place, 'Pursue the leveret at large,

'Nor near thy blunderbuss discharge. • Disdainful tho' thou look'st on me,

• What art thou, or what can'st thou be? 'In what consists thy work and fame? The preservation of the Game.

For what? thou avaricious elf,

But to destroy it all thyself;

'To lead a life of drink and feast,

'T'oppress the poor, and cheat the priest.

'Or triumph in a virgin lost,

'Is all the manhood thou can'st boast.

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Pretty, in nature's various plan,

'To see a weed that's like a man ; 'But 'tis a grievous thing indeed

To see a man so like a weed.'

YES

FABLE XIV.

A STORY OF A COCK AND A BULL.

By Smart.

we excel in arts and arms,

In learning's love and beauty's charms,
The sea's wide empire we engross,
All nations hail the British cross;

The land of liberty we tread,

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And woe to his devoted head

Who dares the contrary advance,

These, these are truths, what man wo'n't write for,

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Wo'n't swear, wo'n't bully, or wo'n't fight for?

Yet (tho', perhaps, I speak thro' vanity)
Would we'd a little more humanity:
Too far, I fear, I've drove the jest,
So leave to Cock and Bull the rest.
A Bull whose prime of life was past,
And to decay was hast'ning fast,
Now left the meadow's green parade,
And sought a solitary shade.

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Is this the case,' quoth Hodge, 'O rare!

'But hold, to-morrow is the fair.

'Thou to thy doom, old boy, art fated,

To-morrow--and thou shalt be baited. I

The deed was done ah! cruel wrong! Bloody description, hold thy tongue.

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Victorious yet the Bull return'd,
And with stern silence inly mourn'd.
A vet'ran, brave, majestic Cock

Who serv'd for hour-glass, guard, and clock,
Who crow'd the mansion's first relief,
Alike from sloth and from the thief;

Whose youth escap'd the Christmas skillet,
Whose vigour brav'd the Shrovetide billet,
Had just return'd in wounds and pain,
Triumphant from the barbarous train.→→→
By riv'let's brink, with trees o'er-grown,
He heard his fellow sufferer's moan;
And, greatly scorning wounds and smart,
Gave him three cheers with all his heart:

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Rise, neighbour, from that pensive attitude, 'Brave witness of vile man's ingratitude; • And let us both with spur and horn, 'The cruel reasoning monster scorn. 'Methinks, at ev'ry dawn of day, • When first I chant my blithsome lay, 'Methinks I hear from out the sky, 'All will be better by and by; 'When bloody, base, degenerate man, 'Who deviates from his Maker's plan ; Who nature and her works abuses, • And thus his fellow servants uses, "Shall greatly, and yet justly, want, The mercy he refus'd to grant ;

And while his heart his conscience purges,'Shall wish to be the brute he scourges

FABLE XV. Ir

THE BLOCKHEAD AND THE BEE-HIVE. ***

By Smart.

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THE fragrance of the new-mown hay
Paid incense to the king of day;
Who issuing from his eastern gate,
Resplendent rode in all his state,
Rous'd by the sight from soft repose,
Big with the Muse, a Bard arose,
And the fresh garden's still retreat
He measur'd with poetic feet.

The cooling, high, o'er-arching shade,
By the embracing branches made,

The smooth-shorn sod, whose verdant gloss,.
Was check'd with intermingled moss,

Cowslips, like topazes that shine,

Close by the silver serpentine,

Rude rustics which assert the bow'rs

Amidst the educated flow'rs.

The lime tree and sweet-scented bay,
(The sole reward of many a lay)
And all the poets of the wing,
Who sweetly without salary sing,
Attract at once his observation,
Peopling thy wilds, Imagination!

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'Sweet nature, who this turf bedews, 'Sweet nature, who's the thrush's muse! 'How she each anxious thought beguiles, 'And meets me with ten thousand smiles! ' O infinite benignity!

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She smiles, but not alone on me ; 'On hill, on dale, on lake, on lawn, 'Like Celia when her picture's drawn.'

More had he said—but in there came
A lout-'Squire Booby was his name.—
The Bard, who, at a distant view,
The busy prattling blockhead knew,
Retir'd into a secret nook,

And thence his observations took..
Vex'd he could find no man to teaze,

The 'Squire 'gan chattering to the bees,
And poorly with officious mien,

He thus address'd their humming Queen:

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'Madam, be not in any terrors,

I only come to amend your errors;

My friendship briefly to display,

And put you in a better way.

Cease, Madam, (if I may advise)

'To carry honey on your thighs,

Employ ('tis better, I aver)

'Old Grub, the fairies' coach-maker,

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'To make a coach, may make a cart. 'To these you'll yoke some sixteen bees, 'Who will dispatch your work with ease;

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