'My light, indeed, I must confess, 'The moon with borrow'd light may glow: That your faint glimm'ring is your own, 'I think is question'd yet by none: 'But sure the office to collect 'The solar brightness and reflect, 'To catch those rays that would be spent 'Quite useless in the firmament, And turn them downwards on the shade • Which absence of the sun has made, 'Amounts to more, in point of merit, 'Than all your tribe did e'er inherit : Oft by that planet's friendly ray • The midnight trav'ler finds his way; 'Safe by the favour of her beams ''Midst precipices, lakes and streams; 'Whilst you mislead him, and your light, 'Seen like a cottage-lamp by night, With hopes to find a safe retreat, ́Allures and tempts him to his fate: 'As this is So, I needs must call The merit of your light but small : 'You need not boast on't tho' your own, 'Tis light indeed, but worse than none; • Unlike to what the moon supplies, By all the Sages 'tis confest That hope when moderate is best: A Tale an ancient Bard has told Their names were (lest I should forget Lest critics too should make a pother) Like Cold and Hunger's worst retreat: Two walls were rocks, and two were sand, Some few hours, once, ere break of day, The one awak'd, and wak'd his neighbour, No friends to indolence or rest. Friend,' quoth the drowsy swain, and swore, • What you 'Than all your service can repay For years to come by night and day; 'You've broke-the thought on't makes me mad→→→ 'The finest dream that e'er I had.' Quoth Gripus: Friend, your speech would prove • You mad indeed, or else in love; For dreams should weigh but light on those • Who feel the want of food and clothes: 'I guess, tho' simple and untaught, 'You dream about a lucky draught, 'Or money found by chance: they say, "That hungry foxes dream of prey. 'You're wond'rous shrewd, my friend, in troth,'. Asphelio cried, and right in both: My dream had gold in't, as you said, 'And fishing too, our constant trade; And, since your guess has hit so near, 'In short, the whole on't you shall hear : Upon the shore I seem'd to stand, My rod and tackle in my hand; 'The baited hook full oft I threw, ' And still in vain, I nothing drew: 'A fish at last appear'd to bite, • With something weighty bent half round: This fish, when in the market sold, In place of brass will sell for gold: To bring it safe within my reach, • I drew it softly to the beach: But, long ere it had come so near, The water gleam'd with something clear; Each passing billow caught the blaze, And glitt'ring shone with golden rays. 'Of hope and expectation full, Impatient, yet afraid to pull, • To shore I slowly brought my prize, "A golden fish of largest size: 'Twas metal all from head to tail, 'Quite stiff and glitt'ring ev'ry scale. Thought I, my fortune now is made ; • "Tis time to quit the fishing trade, And choose some other, where the gains 'Are sure, and come for half the pains. 'Like creatures of amphibious nature 'One hour on land and three in water; "We live 'midst danger toil and care, 'Yet never have a groat to spare : . While others not expos'd to harm, 'Grow rich, tho' always dry and warm ; |