And often found (when two contend)
To interpofe obtain'd his end.
He glory'd in his limping pace;
'The fears of honour feam'd his face;
In every limb a gash appears,

And frequent fights retrench'd his cars.
As on a time he heard from far
Two dogs enga'd in noify war,
Away he fcours, and lays about him,
Refolv'd no fray fhould be without him.
Forth from his yard a tanner flies,
And to the bold intruder cries:

"A cudgel fhall correct your manners :
Whence fprung this curfed hate to tanners?
While on my dog you vent your spite,
Sirrah! 'tis me you dare not bite."

To fee the battle thus perplex'd,
With equal rage a butcher vex'd,
Hoarfe-fcreaming from the circled crowd,
To the curs'd Mattiff cries aloud :

Both Hockley hole and Marybone
The combats of my dog h ve known :
He ne'er, like bullies, coward-hearted,
Attacks in public, to be parted.

Think not, rath fool, to share his fame ;
Be his the honour, or the shame."

Thus faid, they fwore, and rav'd like thunder,
Then dragg'd their fatten'd dogs afunder;
While clubs and kicks from every fide
Rebounded from the Malli's hide.

All reeking now with fweat and blood,
A while the parted warriors flood;
Then pour'd upon the meddling foe,
Who, worried, howl'd and fprawl'd below.
He rofe; and limping from the fray,
By both fides mangled, sneak'd away.

FABLE XXXV.

The Clown, with furly voice replies,
"Vengeance aloud for juftice cries.
This kite, by daily rapine fed,
My hens' annoy, my turkeys' dread,
35 At length his forfeit life hath paid
See on the wall his wings difplay'd:
Here nail'd, a terror to his kind,
My fowls fhall future fafety find;
My yard the thriving poultry feed,

40 And my barns' refufe fat the breed."

THE BARLEY-MOW AND THE DUNGHILL,

HOW many faucy airs we meet

From Temple-bar to Aldgate-ftreet!

Proud rogues, who shared the South-fea prey,
And fprung like mushrooms in a day!
They think it mean to condefcend
To know a brother or a friend;

They blush to hear their mother's name,
And by their pride expofe their fhame.
As crofs his yard, at early day,
A careful farmer took his way,
He stopp'd; and, leaning on his fork,
Obferv'd the flail's inceffant work.
In thought he meafur'd all his store,
His geefe, his hogs, he number'd c'er;

In fancy weigh'd the fleeces fhorn,
And multiply'd the next year's corn.

A Barley-mow, which flood befide,
Thus to its musing mafter cry'd:

"Say, good Sir, is it fit or right
To treat me with neglect and flight?
Me, who contribute to your cheer,
And raise your mirth with ale and beer?
Why thus infulted, thus difgrac'd,
And that vile dunghill near me plac'd?
Are thofe poor fweepings of a groom,
Thatfilthy 6ght, that nauseous fume,

"Friend, fays the Sage, the doom is wife; For public good the murderer dies: But, if thefe tyrants of the air

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35

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Demand a fentence so severe,

Think how the glutton, man, devours;
What bloody feasts regale his hours!

25

O impudence of power and might,
Thus to condemn a hawk or kite,
When thou, perhaps, carnivorous finner,
Hadt pullets yesterday for dinner !"

30

"Hold, cry'd the Clown, with paffion heated, Shall kites and men alike be treated?

When Heaven the world with creatures ftor'd,

Man was ordain'd their fovereign lord."

"Thus tyrants boaft, the Sage reply'd,

35

Whofe murders fpring from power and pride.
Own then this manlike kite is flain,

Petty rogues fubmit to Fate,

Thy greater luxury to fuftain;

For

"That great ones may enjoy their state *.*

40

ail'd, fwore, and curs'd. "Thou croaking toad, Were paid to wealth, to power, and beauty.

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45

With finiles, quoth Pug, "If pranks like thefe A JUGGLER long through all the Town

Then bids it rain with fhowers of gold;
And now his ivory eggs are told;
But, when from thence the hen he draws,
Amaz'd fpectators hum applaufe.

Vice now ftept forth, and took the place,

With all the forms of his grimace. "This magic looking-glafs,

fhe cries,

25

And thus the listening throng addreft.
"Good Gods! how abject is our race,
Condemn'd to flavery 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.

(There, hand it round) will charm your eyes." 30 How cumbrous is the gilded coach!

Each eager eye the fight defir'd,
And every man himself admir'd.

Next, to a fenator addrefling,

"See this bank-note; obferve the bleffing,
Breathe on the bill Heigh, pafs! 'Tis gone."
Upon his lips a padlock shown.

A fecond puff the magic broke;
The padlock vanish'd, and he spoke.

Twelve bottles rang'd upon the board
All full, with heady liquor stor❜d,
By clean conveyance disappear,
And now two bloody fwords are there.
A purfe the to a thief expos'd;
At once his ready fingers clos'd.
He opes his fist, the treasure's fled;
He fees a halter in its ftead.

She bids ambition hold a wand;
He gralps a hatchet in his hand.

A box of charity fhe fhows.

* Blow here ;" and a church-warden blows.
'Tis vanish'd with conveyance neat,
And on the table fmokes a treat.

She shakes the dice, the board she knocks,
And from all pockets fills her box.

She next a meagre rake addrest.
"This picture fee; her fhape, her breast!
What youth, and what inviting eyes!
Hold her, and have her." With furprize,
His hand expos'd a box of pills,
And a loud laugh proclaim'd his ills.

A counter, in a mifer's hand,
Grew twenty guineas at command.
She bids his heir the fum retain,
And 'tis a counter now again.

A guinea with her touch you fee
Take every shape but Charity;
And not one thing you faw, or drew,
But chang'd from what was first in view.
The Juggler now, in griet of heart,
With this fubmiffion own'd her art.

"Can I fuch matchless fleight withstand!
How practice hath improv'd your hand!
But now and then I cheat the throng;
You every day, and all day long.”

XLIII.

The pride of man is our reproach.,
Were we defign'd for daily toil,

To drag the plough-fhare through the foil,
To fweat in harnefs through the road,
35 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?
40 Shall haughty man my back beftride?
Shall the sharp fpur provoke my fide?
Forbid it, Heavens ! Reject the rein;
Your fhame, your infamy, difdain.
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger's famifh'd growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name."

45

A general nod approv'd the cause,
And all the circle neigh'd applause.

50 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,

55 Thus fpoke the Neftor of the plain.

"When I had health and ftrength, like you,
The toils of fervitude I knew;
Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
60 At will I crop the year's increase;
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,

65 Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand ftructures rife,
To fence us from inclement skies!
For us he bears the fultry day,
And stores up all our winter's hay.

70 He fows, he reaps the harvest's gain;
We share the toil, and fhare the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appeafe your discontented mind,
And act the part by Heaven affign'd."

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

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ze

55

FABLE

Through bush, through brier, explore the chace:
Now fcatter'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,
Purfue the fcent ; with louder ftrain
He ftill perfifts to vex the train.

The Huntsman to the clamour flies, The fmacking lafh he fmartly plies. His ribs all welk'd, with howling tone The puppy thus exprefs'd his moan:

"I know the mufic of my tongue Long fince the pack with envy ftung. What will not spite? These bitter smarts

When Puppies prate, the Huntíman cry'd,