Fable
Fashion and Night

1

Fashion a motly nymph of yore
The Cyprian queen to Proteus bore
Various herself in various climes,
She molds the manners of the times;
And turns in every age and nation,
The chequered wheel of variegation,
True female that never knew her will,
Still changing, the immortal still,
One day, as the inconsistent maid
Was carleft on her sofa laid,
Sick of the sun, and tired with light,
She thus invoked the gloomy night;
Come those malignant rays destroy,
Thou skreen of shame and rise of joy;
Come from thy wottern amluscade,
Queen of the yeast and masquerade.
Nymph, without thee no cards advance,
Without thee halts the loitering dance;
'Fill you approach, all, all's restraint,
Nor is it safe to game or paint.
The belle and beaux thy influence ask,
Put on the universal mask;
Let us invert, in thy disguise,
That odious Nature we despise,
The ceas'd-the table maniled clame
With slow approach, and awful, came
A frowning with farastic sneer,

Reproach'd the female rioter
That Nature you abuse my fair,
Was I treated to repair?
And contrast with a friendly shade
The pictures heav'n's rich personell mad-
And with my sleep-alluring dose
To give laborious art repose;
To make both noise and action cease,
The queen of science and peace,
But then a rebel vile and vain,
Usurp'st my lawful old domain;
My seeptve thou affect'st to sway
And all the various hours are day
With clamours of unreal joy,
My sister silence, you destroy;
The blaring lamp's unnatural light
My eye-balls weary and affright
But if I am allowed one shade,
Which no intrusive eyes invade,
There all th' alluring imps of hell,
Theft, murder and pollution dwell,
Think then how much, thou toyl of chance,
Thy praise is like my worth 't' enhance
Blind thing, that run'st without a guide,
Thou whirlpool in a rushing tide
No more my fame with praise pollute
'But damn me into some repute.

7

The Author and the Fly.

One Florio at his books employ'd
(his servant Hodge was high)
Was as he studied much annoy'd
By a malicious fly
The Saucy insect's din he checks;
And fell'd him with his pen
Then all his matter'd thoughts collects,
And plies his books again
The misera'nt nought from hence dis=
But quicken'd by disgrace
In little circles round him play'd
And lighted on his face.

A foolish officious and unay found sometimes does more mischev than an
open enemy.

His little circles met unseem
To Florio's busy sight
Who, ign'rant of the insect's spleen
continu'd still to write
Some say that Florio all the while
Beheld it with disdain
And by the language of a smile
Benoun'd its rancour vain
But Hodge arose, and clench'd his fist
Resolv'd to strike it dead;
Am'd at the fly- the fly he miscal'd
And broke his masters head.

17

Fable

The Ant and the Caterpillar

As an Ant of his talent supremely vain
Was trolling, with consequence, over the plain

A worm, in his progress, remarkably slow.

Cry'd 'Bless your good worship, wherever you go
'Hope your great mightiness won't take it ill,
'I pay my respects from an hearty good will.'

With a look of contempt, and inoffable pride,
'Begone, you vile reptile, his antship reply'd;
'Go go and lament your contemptable state;
'But first—look at me—see—my limb, how complete!'

I guide all my motions with freedom and ease;
I run back and forward, and turn when I please
'Of nature (grown weary) then shocking e'enoy!

I spurn you thus from me; — crawl out of my way.”

The reptile insulted, and next to the soul,
Crept onwards, and hid himself close in his hole;
But nature determined to end his dift'res,

Soon sent him abroad in a butterfly's drests.

Ere long the proud ant was repassing the road,
(Chatiquld from the harvest, and tugging his load)

The beau on a violet-bank he beheld,
Whose vesture, in glory, a monarch's excell'd;
His plumage expanded! —'twas rare to behold
So lovely a mixture of purple and gold.

The Ant, quite amaz'd at a figure so gay
Bow'd low with respect, and was trudging away:

“Step, friend, says the butterfly, don't be surprised;
'Once was the reptile you spurn'd and despis'd;
'But now I can mount—in the sun-beams I play
"While you must for ever, drudge on in your way."

23

The Oyster and Drop of Water

As fables say a drop of rain
fell from a cloud into the main
"Amid these waves how small am I!
"There for ever lost shall lie;"
It said; an oyster opening wide
Her mouth, imbrled it with the tide,
Condensing there for many a year,
It grew into a pearly sphere.
Then by a skilful diver caught,
To Peria's Ring the pearl was brought;
And now, exulted to a gem,
This drop adorns his diadem;
Thus by its fall an enoist'd height
% gain'd, and rose from darkness into light

24

The Moth and the Taper
Too curious, foolish, Moth for bear.
Approach not this alluring light;
Back to thy dark abode repair
And ever be content with night

More of this worldly-state of things
Was ne'er design'd for thee to know;
That which to fend thou ply'st thy wings
Will prove a Sh Alexander woe.

Proud man, like thee, ne'er satisfied
With science his allotted share,
Makes each false glimm'ing ray his guide
And erring meets destruction there.

45

Table
The Nightingale and the Sparrow

The Nightingale one day was listening to a Shepherd skilful
notes on his flagelet and following them with his voice, the Spar-
row who had been waiting watching them for some time at,
Last broke out and saying how provoked I am to see a Bird
so learned as you are take lessons as if you were a scholar
when you must know that the song of the Nightingale was heard
with pleasure and admiration long before any instrument of
music had existence and that it is yourself who are the teacher
However that may be said the Nightingale if he had learned
from me I may now learn from him he trills to imitate the
capriccious variations of my voice and I may gain much if I
can copy his scientific manner of arranging them and I hope
you know that even the voice of a Nightingale might be improved
by rule.

Application

When the man of Genius disclaims to study let him remember
with the Nightingale in the fable that the greatest Talents are
those most capable of being improved by studious application

Fable

Pen, Ink and Paper

Paper yelad in white

And Pen with hat and feather,
With Ink well bottled tight

Once took a walk together.

The moon conspicuous shew'd
The coat which paper wore,

And so he led the way,
And always kept before.

Say'd Pen to Paper, Why
Dost thou precedence take?

To trace thy progeny,

Thou'rt but a dunghill-rake.

From smocks of shore and vogue,
A beggar brat begotten;

Thou'rt grown in mighty vogue,
Trim'd up from patches rotten.

Let me be what I will,
Or whence you will descended,
What were thy goose-cap quill,
Unless by me befriended?

A wild goose chace you run
Upon my milky way;

And when all's said and done
'Tis odds you nothing say.

How oft have I been born,
Or put to vilest use?

The meanest critics scorn
Thy errors, my abode,
Talk'st thou to me of birth?

Look back upon thy own;
The silliest thing on earth

Boasts thee to be her son.

From me says Pen, you draw

The worth which you inherit;
In poetry or law,

'Tis that stamp your merit.

Here interrupted ink,
Why how now, whence the quarrel?

Could either of you think,

Did I not fill the barrel?

Do you not wet your lip,
For pen within my fountain,

Both Helicon and Hip-
pocrene in use surmounting

Then let us all unite,

Useless without each other
One were not worth a mite

Without his friend and brother.

49

Table

53

The Death of Genius

From her alert a dispersion
Genius was in a sad condition:
Threadbare and tatter'd were his clothes,
His shoes, alas! had lost their toes,
And ev'ry thing alike seemed'd fit,
To represent a needy wit.

Distresses now of ev'ry kind,
Had harra'd and falugi'd his mind
In such a manner: that eu'n health
Was neel left distant than his wealth,
Half slav'd and sick, he could not bear it

But sought repose in lonely garret,
When folks are sick: 'tis nothing new,
I expect their friends with how'd dye do?

Some come through pride and ostentation,
And some for sake of more vexation,
Throng up their shoulders, cry 'Is pily
Think to insult, is to be witty.'

Poor Genius now lay very ill,
Without a doctor, nurse, or pill;
When, lo! the door wide open flew,
A meagre foom came strait to view,
With silver beard, and wrinkled face,
With solemn-yet with hasty peace.

His Genius knew, by his complexion,
To be no other than Reflection;

Struck with the sight, a thousand things
Since first he left his leading strings,
Rush'd in at once upon his mind

And drove all peace a mile behind.

The next a lisping ambling dame
Came in and Folly was her name;
And instantly she sought the bed

Where Genius laid his aching head

And whisper'd something in his ear,
Which sav'd but to augment his fear;
Then with a gift, sigh'd and cry'd,
"You surely can't forget your bride."

Another now, with lord horse's grain
Came without ceremony in,
Misa Fortune this— who thus began:

My charming youth, my dearest man,
The Folly I must own your bride,
Both legally and firmly ly'd,
Yet surely Genius can't forget,

How much he's in Misa Fortune's debt,
When ev'ry friend hath left your side,
And even Folly, tho' your bride:

Yet I you know, was ever near

To soothe your woes, and soft care,
Then give me no unkind reply,
With you I'll live with you I'll die.

Now mad or worse than mad, he rav'd,
And ev'ry power divine he brav'd
When lo! another meagre shade;
Like some poor antiquated maid!

Advanced— Behold me here
A friend to all, then banish care;

My name is Hope, I have patient, then,
And all will soon be well again."

Patience survived 'till Hope was fled,
And left poor Genius almost dead,
When Death the only friend he had,
Thinking his case extremely bad,
Came in and with a well-tramm'd hart
Struck him, at once quite through the heart
Misa Fortune, Folly left his side;
And Genius in a garret died.