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Returning from his finish'd tour,
Grown ten times perter than before,
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travell'd fool your mouth will stop;
"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-
"I've feen-and fure I ought to know"-
So begs you'd pay a due fubmiffion,
And acquiefce in his decifion.

Two travellers of fuch a caft,
As o'er Arabia's wilds they paft,
And on their way in friendly chat
Now talk'd of this, and then of that,
Difcours'd a while, 'mong ft other matter,
Of the Camelion's form and nature.
"A ftranger animal," cries one,
Sure never liv'd beneath the san:
"A lizard's body lean and long,
A fish's head, a ferpent's tongue,
Its foot with triple claw disjoin'd;
And what a length of tail behind!
"How flow its pace: and then its hue-
"Who ever faw fo fine a blue?"

"Hold there," the other quick replies, 'Tis green-I faw it with thefe eyes, As late with open mouth it lay, “And warm'd it in the funny ray: "Stretch'd at its eafe the beaft I view'd,. And faw it eat the air for food." "I've feen it, Sir, as well as you, And muft again affirm it blue;' << At leifure I the beaft furvey'd Extended in the cooling fhade..

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""Tis green, 'tis green, Sir, I affure ye”-
"Green!" cries the other in a fury-
"Why, Sir-dy'e think I've loft my eyes ?”
""Twere no great lofs," the friend replies,
"For if they always ferve you thus,
"You'll find them but of little use."
So high at last the conteft rofe,
From words they almoft came to blows:
When luckily came by a third;

To him the question they referr'd;
And begg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue ?
"Sirs," cries the umpire," cease your pother-
"The creature's neither one nor t'other,
"I caught the animal laft night,

"And view'd it o'er by candle-light:
"I mark'd it well-'twas black as jet-
"You ftare-but, Sirs, I've got it yet,
"And can produce it.”—“ Pray, Sir, do:
"I'll lay my life the thing is blue."

"And I'll be fworn, that when you've seen
"The reptile, you'il pronounce him green."

"Well then, at once to eafe the doubt," Replies the man, "I'll turn him out: "And when before your eyes I've fet him, "If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." He faid; then full before their fight Produc'd the beaft, and lo!-'twas white! Both ftar'd; the man look'd wond'rous wifeMy children," the Camelion cries,

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(Then firft the creature found a tongue) "You all are right, and all are wrong:

<< When

"When next you talk of what you view,
"Think others fee, as well as you:
"Nor wonder, if you find that none

"Prefers your eye-fight to his own."

MERRICK

CHAP. XIII.

THE YOUTH AND THE PHILOSOPHER.

A GRECIAN Youth, of talents rare,

Whom Plato's philofophic care

Had form'd for Virtue's nobler view,

By precepts and example too,

Would often boast his matchless skill,

To curb the fteed, and guide the wheel.
And as he pafs'd the gazing throng,
With graceful ease,`and smack'd the thong.
The idiot wonder, they exprefs'd,

Was praife and tranfport to his breast.

At length, quite vain, he needs would shew

His mafter what his art could do;

And bade his flaves the chariot lead
To Academus' facred hade.

The trembling grove confefs'd its fright,
The wood-nymph's ftarted at the fight;
The Mufes drop the learned lyre,
And to their inmost shades retire.

Howe'er the youth with forward air,
Bows to the Sage, and mounts the car;
The lash refounds, the courfers fpring,
The chariot marks the rolling ring;

And

And gath'ring crowds, with eager eyes
And fhouts purfue him as he flies.

Triumphant to the goal return'd,
With nobler thirft his bofom burn'd;
And now along th' indented plain.
The felf-fame track he marks again,
Purfues with care the nice defign,
Nor ever deviates from the line.
Amazement feiz❜d the circling crowd;
The youths with emulation glow'd;
Ev'n bearded fages hail'd the boy,
And all, but Plato, gaz'd with joy.
For he deep judging fage, beheld
With pains the triumphs of the field:
And when the charioteer drew nigh,
And, flufh'd with hope, had caught his eye
"Alas! unhappy youth, he cry'd,

Expect no praife from me, (and figh❜d),
With indignation I furvey

Such skill and judgment thrown away..
The time profufely squander'd there,
On vulgar arts beneath thy care,
If well employ'd, at lefs expence,.
Had taught thee honour, virtue, fenfe,.
And rais'd thee from a coachman's fate,
To govern men, and guide the state."

WHITEHEAD.

CHAP.

CHAP. XIV.

SIR BALAAM

WHERE London's column pointing at the skies,

Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies;
There dwelt a Citizen of fober fame,

A plain, good man, and Balaam was his name;
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth;
His word would pafs for more than he was worth:
One folid dish his week-day meal affords,

An added pudding folemnized the Lord's:
Conftant at Church, and 'Change; his gains were fure,
His givings rare, fave farthings to the poor.

The devil was piqu'd fuch faintship to behold,
And long'd to tempt him, like good Job of old:
But Satan now is wifer than of yore,

And tempts by making rich, not making poor,
Rous'd by the Prince of Air, the whirlwinds sweep
The furge, and plunge his Father in the deep;
Then full against his Cornish lands they roar,
And two rich fhipwrecks blefs the lucky fhore.

Sir Balaam now, he lives like other folks,
He takes his chirping pint, and cracks his jokes:
"Live like yourfelf," was foon my Lady's word
And lo! two puddings fmok'd upon the board.
Asleep and naked as an Indian lay,

An honeft factor ftole a gem away;

He pledg'd it to the knight: the knight had wit,
So kept the di'mond, and the rougue was bit.
Some fcruple rofe, but thus he eas'd his thought,

I'll now give fixpence where I gave a groat;

" Where

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