Away he scowers, affaults his hoof,
Now near him fnarles, now barks aloof;
With fhrill impertinence attends,
Nor leaves him 'till the village ends.
It chanc'd, upon his evil day,
A Pad came pacing down the way;
The Cur, with never-ceafing tongue,
Upon the paffing trav❜ler sprung,
The horse, from scorn provok'd to ire,
Flung backward; rolling in the mire,
The puppy howl'd, and bleeding lay;
The Pad in peace purfu'd his way.
A fhepherd's Dog, who faw the deed,
Detesting the vexatious breed,
Bespoke him thus. When coxcombs prate,
They kindle wrath, contempt, or hate.
Thy teazing tongue had judgment ty'd,
Thou hadst not, like a puppy, dy'd.
EATH, on a folemn night of state,
In all his pomp of terrors fate:
Th' attendants of his gloomy reign,
Difcafes dire, a għaltly train,
Croud the vast court. With hollow tone
A voice thus thunder'd from the throne.
This night our minister we name, Let ev'ry fervant speak his claim
Merit fhall bear this eban wand.
All, at the word, ftretch'd forth their hand.
Feaver, with burning heat poffeft,
Advanc'd, and for the wand addrest.
I to the weekly bills appeal,
Let those express my fervent zeal,
On ev'ry flight occafion near,
With violence I perfevere.
Next Gout appears with limping pace,
Pleads how he shifts from place to place,
From head to foot how swift he flies,
And ev'ry joint and finew plys,
Still working when he seems supprest,
A most tenacious stubborn guest.
A haggard spectre from the crew
Crawls forth, and thus afferts his due.
'Tis I who taint the sweetest joy,
And in the shape of love destroy:
My shanks, funk eyes, and noseless face
Prove my pretenfion to the place.
Stone urg'd his ever-growing force.
And, next, Confumption's meagre 'corfe,
With feeble voice, that scarce was heard,
Broke with short coughs, his fuit prefer'd,
Let none object my lingring way,
I gain, like Fabius, by delay,
Fatigue and weaken ev'ry foe
By long attack, fecure though flow.
Plague represents his rapid power,
Who thinn'd a nation in an hour.
All spoke their claim, and hop'd the wand.
Now expectation hufh'd the band,
When thus the monarch from the throne.
Merit was ever modeft known.
What, no physician speak his right!
None here! But fees their toils requite.
Let then Intemp'rance take the wand,
Who fills with gold their zealous hand.
You, Feaver, Gout, and all the reft,
(Whom wary men, as foes, deteft,)
Forgo your claim; no more pretend:
Intemp'rance is esteem'd a friend,
He shares their mirth, their focial joys,
And, as a courted guest, destroys;
The charge on him must justly fall,
Who finds employment for you all.
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