The Hog with fluttering speech returns; 'Explain, Sir, why your anger burns. See there, untouch'd, your tulips strown; For I devour'd the roots alone.'

At this the Gard'ner's passion grows; From oaths and threats he fell to blows: The stubborn brute the blows sustains, Assaults his leg, and tears the veins. Ah! foolish Swain! too late you find That sties were for such friends design'd! Homeward he limps with painful pace, Reflecting thus on past disgrace; "Who cherishes a brutal mate,

Shall mourn the folly soon or late.'

THE MAN AND THE FLEA.

WHETHER on earth, in air, or main,
Sure every thing alive is vain!

Does not the hawk all fowls survey,

As destin'd only for his prey?
And do not tyrants, prouder things,
Think men were born for slaves to kings?
When the crab views the pearly strands,

Or Tagus, bright with golden sands;

Or crawls beside the coral grove,
And hears the ocean roll above ;
'Nature is too profuse, (says he)
Who gave all these to pleasure me!'

When bordering pinks and roses bloom,
And every garden breathes perfume;
When peaches glow with sunny dyes,
Like Laura's cheek when blushes rise;
When the huge figs the branches bend,
When clusters from the vine depend,
The snail looks round on flower and tree,
And cries, All these were made for me!'
'What dignity's in human nature?'
Says Man, the most conceited creature,
As from a cliff he cast his eye,

And view'd the sea and arched sky.
The sun was sunk beneath the main;
The moon and all the starry train

Hung the vast vault of heav'n: the Man
His contemplation thus began:

'When I behold this glorious show, And the wide watery world below,

The scaly people of the main,

The beasts that range the wood or plain,

The wing'd inhabitants of air,

The day, the night, the various year.
And know all these by Heav'n design'd
As gifts to pleasure human-kind,
I cannot raise my worth too high;
Of what vast consequence am I!'

'Not of the importance you suppose, (Replies a Flea upon his nose :)

Be humble, learn thyself to scan;
Know, pride was never made for man.
'Tis vanity that swells thy mind.

What, Heav'n and earth for thee design'd!
For thee, made only for our need,
That more important Fleas might feed.'

THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.

FRIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name,
Unless to one you stint the flame.
The child, whom many fathers share,
Hath seldom known a father's care.
"Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare who, in a civil way,
Complied with every thing, like GAY,
Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood or graze the plain;
Her care was never to offend,
And every creature was her friend.

As forth she went at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies:

She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round,
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half-dead with fear she gasping lay.

What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the Horse appear'd in view!
'Let me, (says she) your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight:
To friendship every burden's light.'

The Horse replied, 'Poor honest puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus:
Be comforted, relief is near,
For all your friends are in the rear.'

She next the stately Bull implor'd;
And thus replied the mighty lord :
'Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may, without offence, pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.
Love calls me hence; a favourite cow
Expects me near yon barley-mow;
And when a lady's in the case,

You know all other things give place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind,
But see, the Goat is just behind.'

The Goat remark'd her pulse was high, Her languid head, her heavy eye:

'My back, (says he) may do you harm;
The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm.'
The Sheep was feeble, and complain'd
His sides a load of wool sustain'd;
Said he was slow; confess'd his fears;
For hounds eat sheep as well as Hares.
She now the trotting Calf address'd,
To save from death a friend distress'd:
Shall I, (says he) of tender age,
In this important care engage?
Older and abler pass'd you by;

How strong are those! how weak am I!
Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offence.
Excuse me, then! you know my heart;
But dearest friends, alas! must part.
How shall we all lament! Adieu;
For see the hounds are just in view.'