When barb'rous Moloch was invok'd,
The blood of infants only smok'd!
But here (unless all hist'ry lies)
Whole realms have been a sacrifice!
Look through all courts: 'tis pow'r we find
The gen❜ral idol of mankind;
There, worshipp'd under ev'ry shape,
Alike the lion, fox, and ape,
Are follow'd by time-serving slaves,
Rich prostitutes, and needy knaves.
Who then shall glory in his post?
How frail his pride, how vain his boast!
The foll'wers of his prosp'rous hour
Are as unstable as his pow'r.
Pow'r, by the breath of flatt'ry nurs'd,
The more it swells, is nearer burst.
The bubble breaks, the gewgaw ends,
And in a dirty tear descends.
Once on a time, an ancient maid,
By wishes and by time decay'd,
To cure the pangs of restless thought,
In birds and beasts amusement sought:
Dogs, parrots, apes, her hours employ'd;
With these alone she talk'd and toy'd.
A huge Baboon her fancy took
(Almost a man in size and look),
He finger'd ev'ry thing he found,
And mimick'd all the servants round.
Then, too, his parts and ready wit
Shew'd him for ev'ry bus'ness fit.
With all these talents 'twas but just
That Pug should hold a place of trust:
So to her fav'rite was assign'd
The charge of all her feather'd kind.
'Twas his to tend 'em eve and morn,
And portion out their daily corn.
Behold him now, with haughty stride,
Assume a ministerial pride.
The morning rose. In hope of picking,
Swans, turkeys, peacocks, ducks, and chicken, Fowls of all ranks surround his hut,
To worship his important strut.
The minister appears. The crowd,
Now here, now there, obsequious bow'd.
This prais'd his parts, and that his face,
Th' other his dignity in place.
From bill to bill the flatt'ry ran;
He hears and bears it like a man:
For, when we flatter self-conceit,
We but his sentiments repeat.
If we're too scrupulously just,
What profit's in a place of trust!
The common practice of the great,
Is, to secure a snug retreat.
So Pug began to turn his brain
(Like other folks in place) on gain.
An apple-woman's stall was near,
Well stock'd with fruits through all the year:
Here ev'ry day he cramm'd his guts;
Hence were his hoards of pears and nuts;
For 'twas agreed, in way of trade,
His payments should in corn be made.
The stock of grain was quickly spent,
And no account which way it went,
Then too the Poultry's starv'd condition
Caus'd speculations of suspicion.
The facts were prov'd beyond dispute;
Pug must refund his hoards of fruit:
And, though then minister in chief,
Was branded as a public thief.
Disgrac❜d, despis'd, confin'd to chains,
He nothing but his pride retains.
A goose pass'd by; he knew the face,
Seen ev'ry levee while in place.
'What, no respect! no rev'rence shewn! How saucy are these creatures grown! Not two days since,' says he,' you bow'd The lowest of my fawning crowd.'
'Proud fool!' replies the goose, ''tis true, Thy corn a flutt'ring levee drew; For that I join'd the hungry train, And sold thee flatt'ry for thy grain. But then, as now, conceited ape, We saw thee in thy proper shape.'
The Ant in Office.
To a Friend.
You tell me, that you apprehend
My verse may touchy folks offend.
In prudence, too, you think my rhymes
Should never squint at courtiers' crimes:
For though nor this not that is meant,
Can we another's thoughts prevent?
You ask me, if I ever knew
Court-chaplains thus the lawn pursue?
I meddle not with gown or lawn;
Poets, I grant, to rise must fawn.
They know great ears are over-nice,
And never shock their patron's vice.
But I this hackney-path despise;
'Tis my ambition not to rise.
If I must prostitute the Muse,
The base conditions I refuse.
I neither flatter nor defame,
Yet own I would bring guilt to shame.
If I Corruption's hand expose,
I make corrupted men my foes.
What then? I hate the paltry tribe,
Be virtue mine; be theirs the bribe.
I no man's property invade;
Corruption's yet no lawful trade.
Nor would it mighty ills produce,
Could I shame bribery out of use.
I know 'twould cramp most politicians,
Were they tied down to these conditions;
'Twould stint their power, their riches bound,
And make their parts seem less profound.
Were they denied their proper tools,
How could they lead their knaves and fools?
Were this the case, let's take a view,
What dreadful mischiefs would ensue; .
Though it might aggrandize the state,
Could private lux'ry dine on plate?
Kings might indeed their friends reward,
But ministers find less regard.
Informers, sycophants, and spies,
Would not augment the year's supplies.
Perhaps too, take away this prop,
An annual job or two might drop:
Besides, if pensions were denied,
Could avarice support its pride?
It might ev'n ministers confound,
And yet the state be safe and sound.
I care not though 'tis understood
I only mean my country's good:
And (let who will my freedom blame)
I wish all courtiers did the same.
Nay, though some folks the less might get,
I wish the nation out of debt.
I put no private man's ambition
With public good in competition :
Rather than have our law defac'd,
I'd vote a minister disgrac'd.
I strike at vice, be't where it will;
And what if great folks take it ill?
I hope corruption, brib'ry, pension,
One may with detestation mention;
Think you the law (let who will take it,
Can scandalum magnatum make it?
I vent no slander, owe no grudge,
Nor of another's conscience judge:
At him or him I take no aim,
Yet dare against all vice declaim.
Shall I not censure breach of trust,
Because knaves know themselves unjust?
That steward whose account is clear,
Demands his honour may appear:
His actions never shun the light,
He is, and would be prov'd, upright.
But then you think my fable bears
Allusion too to state-affairs.
I grant it does: And who's so great,
That has the privilege to cheat?
If then in any future reign
(For ministers may thirst for gain)
Corrupted hands defraud the nation;
I bar no reader's application.
An Ant there was, whose forward prate
Controll'd all matters in debate;
Whether he knew the thing or no,
His tongue eternally would go.
For he had impudence at will,
And boasted universal skill.
Ambition was his point in view;
Thus by degrees to pow'r he grew.
Behold him now his drift attain:
He's made chief treas'rer of the grain.
But as their ancient laws are just,
And punish breach of public trust,
'Tis order'd (lest wrong application
Should starve that wise, industrious nation)
That all accounts be stated clear,
Their stock, and what defray'd the year;
That auditors should these inspect,
And public rapine thus be check'd.
For this the solemn day was set,
The auditors in council met.
The gran'ry-keeper must explain,
And balance his account of grain.
He brought, since he could not refuse 'em,
Some scraps of paper to amuse 'em.
An honest Pismire, warm with zeal,
In justice to the public weal,
Thus spoke: 'The nation's hoard is low;
From whence does this profusion flow?
I know our annual fund's amount;
Why such expense; and where's th' account?' With wonted arrogance and pride,
The Ant in office thus replied:
'Consider, Sirs, were secrets told,
How could the best-schem'd projects hold?
Should we state-mysteries disclose,
'Twould lay us open to our foes.
My duty and my well-known zeal
Bid me our present schemes conceal:
But, on my honour, all th' expense,
Though vast, was for the swarm's defence.'
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