6'Z FABLES. Hardly with life the wounded Serpent fled To his own feats,and frighted hides his Head. Thofe whom we wrong^we hate: what Arts the ftern R uftick before did learn From the wife Serpent, now feem'd poor, and cheap : Who Winds and Stars obferve, not Sow,, nor Reap. Him Induflry, and Fortune happy made; But not long after Udders full wax dry, A chaffie Ear fhoots from a wither'd Blade; His Corn is Wafted, Sheep and Cattel dy. Suppliant heftands then at the Serpentsdore, And thusdefires his company once more. Wife as thy felf, than Doves more innocent., The injury I repent ; And though 'tis Juftice,fince thy Head did fed My cruel Axe, that thou friouldft brui/e my Heel ; Yet pardon me, and once more I entreat, That thou wouldft blefs my little Houie again. Then Ipoke the Serpent from his low-roof'd feat, Though the W'ound's whole, the memory I retain; Yet I'll forgive the WVong, but never more While thou a hatchet haft come in thy dore. Moral. What pleafure hath fill Boards jwhen or our Head, A ponderous Sword hangs on a twijled Thread? Fly dangerous Company j&hen Choler burns, Oft Princely Cheer to bloody Banquets turns. Fab.