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“Hath Socrates thy soul refin'd,
“And hast thou fathom'd Tully's mind -
“Or, like the wise Ulysses, thrown * “By various fates on realms unknown, | “Hast thou through many cities stray'd, p
“Their customs, laws, and manners weigh’d "
The shepherd modestly replied :
“I ne'er the paths of learning tried,
“Nor have I roam'd in foreign parts
“To read mankind, their laws, and arts;
“For man is practis'd in disguise,
“He cheats the most discerning eyes;
“Who by that search shall wiser grow,
“When we ourselves can never know *
“The little knowlege I have gain'd,
“Was all from simple nature drain'd ;
“Hence my life's maxims took their rise,
“Hence grew my settled hate to vice.
“The daily labours of the bee.
“Awake my soul to industry.
“Who can observe the careful ant,
“And not provide for future want?
“My dog (the trustiest of his kind)
“With gratitude inflames my mind;
“I mark his true, his faithful way,
“And in my service copy Tray.
“In constancy and nuptial love,
“I learn my duty from the dove.
“The hen, who from the chilly air
“With pious wing protects her care,
“And ev'ry fowl that flies at large
“Instructs me in a parent's charge.
“From nature, too, I take my rule
“To shun contempt and ridicule.
“I never with important air
“In conversation overbear;.
“Can grave and formal pass for wise,
“When men the solemn owl despise?
“My tongue within my lips I rein,
“For who talks much must talk in vain;
“We from the wordy torrent fly:
“Who listens to the chatt’ring pie
“Nor would I with felonious slight
“By stealth invade my neighbour's right;
“Rapacious animals we hate;
“Kites, hawks, and wolves deserve their fate.
“Do not we just abhorrence find
“Against the toad and serpent kind?
“But envy, calumny, and spite
“Bear stronger venom in their bite;
“Thus ev'ry object of creation
“Can furnish hints to contemplation,
“And from the most minute and mean
“A virtuous mind can morals glean.”
“Thy fame is just,” the sage replies,
“Thy virtue proves thee truly wise:
“Pride often guides the author's pen,
“Books as affected are as men;
“But he who studies Nature's laws,
* From certain truth his maxims draws.”
THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.
A wolf and lamb, one sultry day,
To the same meadow chanc'd to stray;
By thirst constrain'd they sought the rill
That issued from a neighb'ring hill.
The wolf stood near the fountain's head;
The lamb far distant down the mead.
lsgrim, who dearly lov'd disputes,
With fell intent the lamb salutes:
“You, sir, stand off you tread the brink in,
“And mud the stream so, there's no drinking
The harmless lamb, with much surprise,
Looks up, and trembling thus replies:
“I can't conceive how that can be, sir;
“The stream runs down from you to me, sir!”
“Upon my word, sir, you mistake,
“ (But don't be angry, for Heaven's sake;)
“I never could have such intention,
“Nor was I born, the time you mention.”
The wolf, by force of truth repel'd,
With shame and anger foam’d and swell'd;
“It was your father, then,” cries he,
“And that you know's the same to me.”
He said, and seiz'd the helpless victim,
And to the bones the tyrant pick'd him.
THE BUTTERFLY AND THE SNAIL.-Gay.
ALL upstarts, insolent in place,
Remind us of their vulgar race.
As, in the sunshine of the morn,
A butterfly (but newly born)
Sate proudly perking on a rose;
| With pert conceit his bosom glows,
His wings (all glorious to behold)
Bedropt with azure, jet, and gold,
Wide he displays; the spangled dew
Reflects his eyes and various hue.
. . . . His now forgotten friend, a snail,
- Beneath his house, with slimy trail
Crawls o'er the grass; whom when he spies,
In wrath he to the gard’ner cries:
“What means yon peasant's daily toil,
“From choaking weeds to rid the soil
“Why wake you to the morning's care :
“Why with new arts correct the year 2
“Why glows the peach with crimson hue 2
“And why the plum's inviting blue *
“Were they to feast his taste design'd,
“That vermin of voracious kind?
“Crush them, the slow, the pilf’ring race,
“So purge thy garden from disgrace.”
“What arrogance " the snail replied;
“How insolent is upstart pride!
“Hadst thou not thus, with insult vain,
“Provok'd my patience to complain,
“I had conceal’d thy meaner birth,
“Nor trac'd thee to the scum of earth ;
“For scarce nine suns have wak’d the hours,
“To swell the fruit and paint the flowers,
“Since I thy humbler life survey'd,
“In base, in sordid guise array'd;
“A hideous insect, vile, unclean,
“You dragg'd a slow and noisome train,
“And from your spider bowels drew.
“Foul film, and spun the dirty clue.
“I own my humble life, good friend;
“Snail was I born, and snail shall end.
/“And what's a butterfly At best,
“He’s but a caterpillar, drest;
“And all thy race (a num’rous seed)
“Shall prove of caterpillar breed.”