Page images
PDF

• I guide all my motions with freedom and ease, • Run backward and forward, and turn when I please. • Of nature' (grown weary) 'you shocking essay!' I spurn you thus from me-crawl out of my way.'

The reptile, insulted, and vexd to the soul, Crept onwards, and hid himself close in a hole; But time, friend to all, soon reliev'd his distäess, And sent him abroad in a Butterfly's dress .

Ere long the: proud Ant; as repassing the road, (Fatigu'd from the harvest, and tugging bis; load,) The beau on a violet bank he beheld, ' Whose gesture in glory a monarchis excellid; . His plumage expanded-'twas rare to behold, Se lovely a mixture of purple and goldi The Antquite: amaz'di at an figure so gay, Bow'd low with respect and was trudging away: : "Stop, friend," says the Butterfly donit -be, sur

priz'disi .. • I once was the reptile you spurn’d and despis:d ; " But now I can' mount; in the sunbeams I play, • While you must for ever drudge on in your way.'

MORAL. , . Awretch,tho-to-day he's ofer-loadedi with sorrow, May soar above those that oppress'd him to

Morrow

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

:

The Fox and the Cat, as they travelld one day,
With moral discourses cut shorter the way. .
. 'Tis great,' says the Fox, 'to make justice our

guide!
• How Godlike is mercy!' Grimalkin replied.

While thus they proceeded, a Wolf from the wood,
Impatient of hunger, and thirsting for blood," --.

Rush'd forth, as he saw the dull shepherd asleep, And seiz'd for his supper an innocent sheep. .

* In vain wretched victim for mercy you bleat: “When mutton's at hand,' says the Wolf, I must eat.'

Grimalkin's astonish'd-the Fox stood aghast To see the fell beast at his bloody repast. · • What a wretch !' says the Cat, “ 'tis the vilest of

i brutes ! • Does he feed upon flesh when there's herbage and

roots ?' Cries the Fox : "While our oaks give us acorns -- so good, • What a tyrant is this to spill innocent blood !' Well, onward they march'd, and they moraliz'd

still, 'Till they came where some poultry pick'd chaff by a

mill:

Sly Reynard survey'd them with gluttonous eyes,
And made-spite of morals--a pullet his prizė.
A mouse too, that chanc'd from her covert to

stray, "!
The greedy Grimalkin secur'd as her prey.

A Spider, that sat in her web on the wall, Perceiv'd the poor victims, and pitied their fall. She cried: "Of such murders how guiltless am I !' So ran to regale on a new-taken fly. in, in

[ocr errors]

MORAL..

The faults of our neighbours with freedom we

:: blame, But tax not ourselves, tho' we practise the same.

FABLE XXXIII.

THE SHEEP AND THE BRAMBLE BUSH.

By Cunningham.

A THICK=twisted brake, in the time of a storni,
- Seem'd kindly to cover a Sheep : ?
So snug, for a while, he lay shelter'd and warm,

It quietly sooth'd him to sleep.'

The clouds are now scatter'd, the winds are at peace,

The sheep's to his pasture inclin'd; :'
But, ah! 'the fell-thicket lays hold of his fleece,

His coat is left forfeit behind.

· My friend, who the thicket of Law never tried,

Consider:before you get in; '! Tho'rjudgment and sentence are passid on your side,

You may chance to getrfleec'd to your skin.

FABLE XXXIV.

THE THRUSH AND THE PIE.

By Cunningham.

CONCEAL'D withinza hawthorn bush,
We're told that an experienc'd Thrush
Instructed, in the prime of Spring,
Many a neighb'ring bird to sing:
She caroll’d, and her various song
Gave lessons to the list’ning throng:
But (th' entangling boughs between)
"Twas her delight to teach unseen.

At length the little wond'ring race
Would see their fav’rite face to face :

They thought-it hard to be denied,
And begg'd that she'd no longer hïde,
O'er-modest, worth’s peculiar fault,
Another shade the tut'ress sought, so
And, loth to be too much admir'd,
In secret from the bush retir’d.'

An impudent, presuming Pie,
Malicious, ignorant, and sly,
Stole to the matron's vacant seat, so it
And in her arrogance elate,
Rush'd forward, with— My friends, you see
• The mistress of the choir in me;
• Hereibe your due devotion paid;
I am the songstress of the shade.'

A Linnet, that sat list’ning nigh, Made the impostor this reply: * I fancy, friend! that vulgar throats • Were never form'd for warbling notes; • But, if these lessons came from you, * Repeat them in the public view: • That your assertions may be clear, • Let us behold as well as hear. : The length'ning song, the soft'ning-strain, Our chatt'ring: Pie attempts in vain; For, to the fool's eternal shame, All she could compass was a scream.

The birds, enrag'd around her fly, Nor shelter, nor defence is nigh: 31 The caitiff wretch, distress'd, forlorn, On ev'ry sideis peck'd and torn,

« PreviousContinue »