Lord! Madam, what a fquinting leer! No doubt the Fairy hath been here.

Just as she spoke, a Pigmy Sprite

Pops through the key-hole, fwift as light;
Perch'd on the cradle's top he ftands,
And thus her folly reprimands.

Whence fprung the vain conceited lie,
That we the world with fools supply?
What! give our sprightly race away,
For the dull helplefs fons of clay!
Befides, by partial fondness shown,
Like you we doat upon our own.
Where yet was ever found a mother,
Who'd give her booby for another ?
And fhould we change with human breed,
Well might we pafs for fools indeed.

FABLE

FABLE IV.

The EAGLE, and the Affembly of ANIMALS.

AS JUPITER'S all-feeing eye

Survey'd the worlds beneath the sky,
From this small fpeck of earth were sent,
Murmurs and founds of discontent;
For ev'ry thing alive complain'd,
That he the hardeft life fuftain'd.
JOVE calls the Eagle. At the word
Before him ftands the royal bird.
The bird, obedient, from heav'n's hight,
Downward directs his rapid flight;
Then cited ev'ry living thing,
To hear the mandates of his king.
Ungrateful creatures, whence arife

Thefe

murmurs which offend the kies?

Why this diforder? fay the caufe:

For juft

are Jove's eternal laws.

Let each his difcontent reveal;
To yon four Dog, I first appeal.
Hard is my lot, the Hound replies,

On what fleet nerves the Greyhound flies!

While I, with weary ftep and flow,

O'er plains and vales, and mountains, go.
The morning fees my chafe begun,

Nor ends it till the fetting fun.

When (fays the Greyhound) I pursue,
My game is loft, or caught in view;
Beyond my fight the prey's fecure :
The Hound is flow, but always fure.
And had I his fagacious fcent,

Jove ne'er had heard my difcontent.
The Lion crav'd the Fox's art;
The Fox, the Lion's force and heart.
The Cock implor'd the Pigeon's flight,
Whose wings were rapid, ftrong, and light:
The Pigeon ftrength of wing defpis'd,
And the Cock's matchlefs valour priz'd:
The Fishes wifh'd to graze the plain;
The Beafts, to fkim beneath the main.
Thus, envious of another's ftate,
Each blam'd the partial hand of Fate.

The bird of heav'n then cry'd aloud,
Jove bids difperfe the murm'ring croud;
The God rejects your idle prayers.
Would ye, rebellious mutineers,

Entirely

Entirely change your name and nature,

And be the very envy'd creature ?
What, filent all, and none confent!

Be happy then, and learn content:
Nor imitate the restless mind,
And proud ambition of mankind.

FABLE

The WILD BOAR and the RAM,

A Gainft an elm a fheep was ty'd

The butcher's knife in blood was dy'd:

The patient flock, in filent fright,
From far beheld the horrid fight.
A favage Boar, who near them stood,
Thus mock'd to fcorn the fleecy brood.

All cowards fhould be ferv'd like you.
See, fee, your murd'rer is in view:
With purple hands, and reeking knife,
He ftrips the fkin yet warm with life:
Your quarter'd fires, your bleeding dams,
The dying bleat of harmless lambs,
Call for revenge. O ftupid race!
The heart that wants revenge, is base.
I grant, an ancient ram replies,
We bear no terror in our eyes;
Yet think us not of foul fo tame,

Which no repeated wrongs inflame;
Infenfible of ev'ry ill,

Because we want thy tuks to kill.

Know,