A tribe of tunelefs Praters follow,
The Jay, the Magpie, and the Swallow,
And twenty more their throats let loose,
Down to the witless waddling Goose,
Some pick'd at him, some flew, fome flutter'd,
Some hifs'd, fome fcream'd, and others mutter'd;
The Crow, on carrion wont to feast, The Carrion Crow condemn'd his taste : The Rook in earnest too, not joking, Swore all his finging was but croaking.
Some thought they meant to shew their
Could it be fpight or envy; ----
"Who did no ill, could have no foe."
So Wife Simplicity efteem'd,
Quite otherwife True Wisdom deem'd;
This question rightly underfood,
"What more provokes than doing good? "A foul ennobled and refin'd,
"Reproaches ev'ry bafer mind:
"As ftrains exalted and melodious
"Make every meaner mufic odious,"-
At length the Nightingale was heard,
For Voice and Wisdom long rever'd,
Efteem'd of all the wife and good,
The Guardian Genius of the wood:
He long in difcontent retir'd,
Yet not obfcur'd, but more admir'd,
His Brethren's fervile fouls difdaining,
He liv'd indignant and complaining:
They now afresh provoke his choler,
It seems the Lark had been his scholar,
A fav'rite scholar always near him,
And oft had wak'd whole nights to hear
him :
Enrag'd he canvaffes the matter,
Exposes all their fenfeless chatter,
Shews him and them in fuch a light,
As more enflames, yet quells their spight,
They hear his voice, and frighted fly,
For rage had rais'd it very high:
Sham'd by the wisdom of his Notes,
They hide their heads, and hush their
throats.
Written in the Year MDCC XXX.
IN antient times the wife were able,
In proper terms, to write a fable:
Their tales would always justly suit
The characters of ev'ry brute.
The afs was dull, the lion brave,
The flag was fwift, the fox a knave;
The daw a thief, the ape a droll,
The hound wou'd fcent, the wolf wou'd prole;
A pigeon wou'd, if fhown by Esop,
Fly from the hawk, or pick his pease up.
Far otherwife a great Divine
Has learnt his Fables to refine:
He jumbles men and birds together,
As if they all were of a feather:
You fee him firft the peacock bring,
Against all rules, to be a king;
That in his tail he wore his eyes,
By which he grew both rich and wife.
Now, pray, obferve the Doctor's choice,
A peacock chofe for flight and voice:
Did ever mortal fee a peacock
Attempt a flight above a haycock?
And for his finging, Doctor, you know,
Himself complain'd of it to Juno.
He fquals in fuch a hellish noise,
It frightens all the village boys.
This peacock kept a standing force;
In regiments of foot and horfe;
Had statesmen too of ev'ry kind,
Who waited on his eyes behind.
(And this was thought the highest post ;
For, rule the Rump, you rule the roast.)
The Doctor names but one at present,
And he of all birds was a pheasant.
This Pheafant was a man of wit,
Cou'd read all books were ever writ;
And, when among companions privy,
Could quote you Cicero and Livy.
Birds, as he fays, and I allow,
Were scholars then, as we are now;
Could read all volumes up to folios,
And feed on fricaffees and olios.
This Pheasant, by the Peacock's will,
Was Viceroy of a neighbouring hill;
And, as he wandred in his Park,
He chanc'd to spy a Clergy Lark;
Was taken with his perfon outward,
So prettily he pick'd a cow-t---d:
Then in a net the Pheasant caught him,
And in his palace fed and taught him.
The moral of the Tale is pleasant,
Himself the lark, my Lord the pheasant:
A lark he is, and fuch a lark
As never came from Noah's ark:
And tho' he had no other notion,
But building, planning, and devotion;
Tho' 'tis a maxim you must know,
Who does no ill, can have no foe,
Yet how fhall I express in words
The ftrange ftupidity of birds?
This Lark was hated in the wood,
Because he did his brethren good.
At laft the Nightingale comes in,
To hold the Doctor by the chin:
We all can find out whom he means,
The worst of difaffected Deans:
Whose wit at beft was next to none,
And now that little next is gone.
Against the Court is always blabbing,
And calls the Senate-Houfe a Cabbin ;
So dull, that but for fpleen and spite,
We ne'er fhou'd know that he could write:
Who
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