Sometimes in speeches vain and proud,
His boasts insult the nether croud;
Now, seiz'd with giddiness and fear,
He trembles lest his fall is near.

Was ever wretch like this! he cries;
Such misery in such disguise!
The change, O Jove! I disavow;
Still be my lot the spade and plough.

He next, confirm'd by speculation,
Rejects the lawyer's occupation ;
For he the statesman seem'd in part,
And bore similitude of heart.

120

Nor did the soldier's trade inflame

His hopes with thirst of spoil and fame.

139

The miseries of war he mourn'd;

Whole nations into desarts turn'd.

By these have laws and rights been brav'd;
By these was freeborn man enslav'd:
When battles and invasion cease,

Why swarm they in the lands of peace?
Such change (says he) may I decline;
The scithe and civil arms be mine!

Thus, weighing life in each condition,
The Clown withdrew his rash petition.
When thus the God: How mortals err !

If you true happiness prefer,

'Tis to no rank of life confin'd,

But dwells in ev'ry honest mind.

140

Be justice then your sole pursuit:

Plant virtue, and content's the fruit.

So Jove, to gratify the Clown,

Where first he found him set him down.

FABLE VIII.

THE MAN, THE CAT, THE DOG, AND THE FLY.

To my native Country.

HAIL, happy land! whose fertile grounds

The liquid fence of Neptune bounds;
By bounteous Nature set apart,
The seat of Industry and Art!
O Britain! chosen port of trade,
May lux'ry ne'er thy sons invade;
May never minister (intent
His private treasures to augment)
Corrupt thy state. If jealous foes
Thy rights of commerce dare oppose,
Shall not thy fleets their rapine awe?
Who is't prescribes the ocean law?
Whenever neighb'ring states contend,
'Tis thine to be the gen'ral friend.
What is't who rules in other lands?
On trade alone thy glory stands;
That benefit is unconfin'd,
Diffusing good among mankind:

148

10

That first gave lustre to thy reigns,
And scatter'd plenty o'er thy plains:
'Tis that alone thy wealth supplies,
And draws all Europe's envious eyes.
Be commerce, then, thy sole design;
Keep that, and all the world is thine.
When naval traffic ploughs the main,
Who shares not in the merchant's gain?
'Tis that supports the regal state,
And makes the farmer's heart elate:
The num'rous flocks that clothe the land
Can scarce supply the loom's demand;
Prolific culture glads the fields,
And the bare heath a harvest yields.
Nature expects mankind should share
The duties of the public care.

Who's born for sloth?

To some we find

The ploughshare's annual toil assign'd: Some at the sounding anvil glow; Some the swift-sliding shuttle throw: Some, studious of the wind and tide, From pole to pole our commerce guide: Some (taught by industry) impart With hands and feet the works of art; While some, of genius more refin'd, With head and tongue assist mankind;

Barrow.

20

30

40

Each aiming at one common end,

Proves to the whole a needful friend.

Owes to the loom his royal vest.
Do not the mason's toil and care
Protect him from th' inclement air?
Does not the cutler's art supply
The ornament that guards his thigh?
All these, in duty to the throne,
Their common obligations own.
'Tis he (his own and people's cause)
Protects their properties and laws.
Thus they their honest toil employ,
And with content the fruits enjoy..
In ev'ry rank, or great or small,
'Tis industry supports us all,

The animals, by want oppress'd,
To man their services address'd:
While each pursu'd their selfish good,

They hunger'd for precarious food:

60

Their hours with anxious cares were vext:

One day they fed, and starv'd the next:

70

They saw that plenty, sure and rife,

Was found alone in social life;

That mutual industry profess'd,

The various wants of man redress'd.

The Cat, half famish'd, lean and weak, Demands the privilege to speak.

Well, Puss, (says Man) and what can you
To benefit the public do?

The Cat replies: These teeth, these claws,
With vigilance shall serve the cause.
The mouse, destroy'd by my pursuit,
No longer shall your feasts pollute;
Nor rats, from nightly ambuscade,
With wasteful teeth your stores invade.
I grant, says Man, to gen'ral use
Your parts and talents may conduce;
For rats and mice purloin our grain,
And threshers whirl the flail in vain :
Thus shall the Cat, a foe to spoil,
Protect the farmer's honest toil.

Then turning to the Dog, he cry'd,
Well, Sir, be next your merits try'd.

Sir, says the Dog, by self-applause
We seem to own a friendless cause.
Ask those who know me, if distrust
E'er found me treach'rous or unjust?
Did I e'er faith or friendship break?
Ask all those creatures; let them speak.
My vigilance and trusty zeal
Perhaps might serve the public weal.