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FRIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name,
A Hare who, in a civil way, .
As forth she went at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
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 reply'd, “ 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;
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 ate 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 áge, 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.”
O SAY, thou dear possessor of my breast, Where now's my boasted liberty and rest ! Where the gay moments that I once have known ! O where that heart I fondly thought my own! From place to place I solitary roam, Abroad uneasy, not content at home. : I scorn the beauties common eyes adore, The more I view them, feel thy worth the more: Unmov'd I hear them speak, or see them fair, And only think on thee,-—who art not there. In vain would books their former succour lend, Nor wit, nor wisdom, can relieve their friend; Wit can't deceive the pain I now endure, And wisdom shows the ill without the cure.