The Juggler now in grief of heart,
With this fubmiffion own'd her art.
Can I fuch matchlefs flight withstand!
How practice hath improv'd your hand!
But now and then I cheat the throng;
You ev'ry day, and all day long.

FABLE

FABLE XLIII.

The COUNCIL of HORSES.

UPON a time a neighing steed,

Who graz'd among a num'rous breed,
With mutiny had fir'd the train,
And spread diffention through the plain.
On matters that concern'd the state
The council met in grand debate.
A colt, whofe eye-balls flam'd with ire,
Elate with ftrength and youthful fire.
In hafte stept forth before the reft,
And thus the lift'ning throng addreft.
Good gods! how abject is our race,
Condemn'd to flav'ry and difgrace!
Shall we our fervitude retain,

Because our fires have borne the chain?
Confider, friends, your ftrength and might;
'Tis conqueft to affert your right.
How cumb'rous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we defign'd for daily toil,

To drag the plough-fhare through the foil;

То

To fweat in harness through the road,

To groan beneath the carrier's load?
How feeble are the two legg'd kind!
What force is in our nerves combin'd!
Shall then our nobler jaws fubmit
To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back beftride?
Shall the sharp fpur provoke my fide?
Forbid it heav'ns! Reject the rein;
Your fhame, your infamy difdain.
Let him the lion first controul,
And ftill the tyger's famifh'd growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.
A general nod approv'd the cause,
And all the circle neigh'd applause.
When, lo! with grave and folemn pace,
A Steed advanc'd before the race,
With age and long experience wife;
Around he caft his thoughtful eyes,

And, to the murmurs of the train,

Thus fpoke the Neftor of the plain.
When I had health and ftrength, like you,
The toils of fervitude I knew.

Now

Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
At will I crop the year's increafe;
My latter life is reft and peace.
I grant to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains.
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand ftructures rife,
To fence us from inclement fkies!
For us he bears the fultry day,
And ftores up all our winter's hay.
He fows, he reaps the harveft's gain;
We share the toil, and fhare the grain.
Since ev'ry creature was decreed

To aid each other's mutual need,
Appeafe your discontented mind,

And act the part by heav'n affign'd.

The tumult ceas'd. The colt fubmitted, And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

FABLE

FABLE

XLIV.

The HOUND and the HUNTSMAN.

Mpertinence at first is borne

IM

With heedlefs flight, or fmiles of fcorn; Teaz'd into wrath, what patience bears. The noify fool who perfeveres?

The morning wakes, the Huntsman founds, At once rush forth the joyful hounds.

They feek the wood with eager pace,

Through bufh, through brier explore the chace.
Now scatter'd wide, they try the plain,
And fnuff the dewy turf in vain.

What care, what industry, what pains!
What univerfal filence reigns.

Ringwood, a Dog of little fame,
Young, pert, and ignorant of game,
At once difplays his babbling throat;
The pack, regardless of the note,
Pursue the fcent; with louder ftrain
He fill perfifts to vex the train.

The Huntsman to the clamour flies'; The fmacking lafh he fmartly plies.

His