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'Or was his motto, prithee speak,

English, French, Latin, Welsh, or Greek 'Or was he not, without a lie,

'Just such a nobleman as I?

'Virtue, which great defects can stifle,

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May beam distinction on a trifle;

And honour, with her native charms, May beautify a coat of arms; 'Realities sometimes will thrive, 'E'en by appearance kept alive; 'But, by themselves, Gules, Or and Fez, 'Are cyphers, neither more nor less: 'Keep both thy head and hands from crimes, 'Be honest in the worst of times: 'Health's on my countenance impress'd,

'And sweet content's my daily guest,

'My fame alone on this I build,
'Nor to the greatest noble yield."

FABLE XVII.

CARE AND GENEROSITY.

By Smart.

OLD Care, with industry and art,

At length so well had play'd his part;

He heap'd up such an ample store,
That Av'rice could not sigh for more:
Ten thousand flocks his shepherd told,
His coffers overflow'd with gold:
The land all round him was his own,
With corn his crowded granaries groan
In short so vast his charge and gain,
That to possess them was a pain:
With happiness oppress'd he lies,
And much too prudent to be wise.
Near him there liv'd a beauteous maid,
With all the charms of youth array'd,
Good, amiable, sincere and free,
Her name was Generosity.

'Twas her's the largess to bestow
On rich and poor, on friend and foe.
Her doors to all were open'd wide,
The pilgrim there might safe abide :
For th' hungry and the thirsty crew
The bread she broke, the drink she drew;
There Sickness laid her aching head,
And there Distress could find a bed,
Each hour, with an all-bounteous hand,
Diffus'd she blessings round the land:
Her gifts and glory lasted long,
And numerous was th' accepting throng.
At length pale Penury seiz'd the dame,
And Fortune fled and Ruin came,

She found her riches at an end,

And that she had not made one friend.

ON ES

All curs'd her for not giving more,
Nor thought on what she'd done before;
She wept, she rav'd, she tore her hair,
When, lo! to comfort her came Care;
And cried, 'My dear, if you will join
'Your hand in nuptial bonds with mine;
'All will be well, you shall have store,

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And I be plagu'd with Wealth no more. 'Tho' I restrain your bounteous heart, • You still shall act the generous part. The Bridal came, join'd by the priest, Plenteous and elegant the feast,

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The bride in nine moons brought him forth.
A little maid of matchless worth:

Her face was mix'd of Care and Glee,
They christen'd her Economy;

And styl'd her fair Discretion's Queen;

The Mistress of the golden mean.

Now Generosity confin'd,

Perfectly easy in her mind;

Still loves to give, yet knows to spare,

Nor wishes to be free from Care.

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FABLE XVIII.

THE PIG.

By Smart.

In every age, and each profession
Men err the most by prepossession;
But, when the thing is clearly shewn,
And fairly stated, fully known,
We soon applaud what we deride,
And penitence succeeds to pride.
A certain Baron on a day,
Having a mind to shew away,
Invited all the Wits and Wags,
Foote, Massey, Shuter, Yates and Skeggs,
And built a large commodious stage
For the Choice Spirits of the age.
But, above all, among the rest,
There came a Genius who profess'd
To have a curious trick in store,
Which never was perform'd before.
Thro' all the town this soon got air,
And the whole house was like a fair;
But soon his entry as he made,
Without a prompter or parade,
'Twas all expectance, all suspense,
And silence gagg'd the audience.

41

He hid his head beneath his wig,
And with such truth took off a Pig,
All said 'twas serious, and no joke,
For doubtless underneath his cloak,
He had conceal'd some grunting elf,
Or was a real hog himself.

A search was made, no pig was found.→
With thund'ring claps the seats resound,
And pit, and box, and galleries roar,
With-O rare! bravo! and encore.

Old Roger Grouse, a country clown,
Who yet knew something of the town,
Beheld the Mimic and his whim,
And on the morrow challeng'd him,
Declaring to each beau and bunter,
That he'd out-grunt th' egregious grunter.
The morrow came the crowd was greater
But prejudice and rank ill-nature

Usurp'd the minds of men and wenches,
Who came to hiss, and break the benches.
The Mimic took his usual station,
And squeak'd with general approbation.
Again, encore! encore! they cry
"Twas quite the thing 'twas very high:
Old Grouse conceal'd, amidst the racket,
A real Pig beneath his jacket-
Then forth he came and with his nail
He pinch'd the Urchin by the tail.
The tortur'd Pig from out his throat,
Produc'd the genuine natʼral note.

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