I from the Margents of the golden Bowl Drink Liquor that revives the faddeft Soul, Frees Prisoners, cures the Stripes of cruel Rods, Makes Peafants Princes, and makes Princes Gods. On gilded Ceilings my heels upward, I, Or my broad Shoulders looking down, efpy Feafts for a mighty Man, and full Cups plac't: At pleafure all thofe Delicates I taft. Pbcebus my Father was, me he begot When his Steeds fainting fell into a trot In the high Solftice; then my Brother Fly Dy'd by Ambition in a Prince's Ey : In his vaft Kingdoms he no place could find But that to reft in, equal to his mind. Why mould I boaft that fad, yet happy Fate Of my dear Coufin, the renowned Gnat, W ho with his Trumpet fav'd a fleeping Swain From the Snake's Tooth, yet for the Fad was flam ? But foon th' ungrateful Shepherd did repent, And built him an eternal Monument j Whofe Epitaph the ^ Prince of Poets made. And the firft ftone with polifh'd Verfes laid. Then fjpake the Ant Sir Fly3 I in a Cave Not Golden Bcdsy nor Ivory Tables have; Yet I contented live,though under ground, When thou doft wander like a Vagabond ; And where thou fojourneft, thofe high Aboads Are none of thine ; thou haft noHoufliold-Gods; But when a Tempeftcomes, and Fortunes Frown Tumbles thy King, as other Princes, down Then in vaft Circles may the hungry Fly Round empty Halls.and keep hisparch'd Trunck dry; There fhall the Spider fubtile Mefties fpread, And having feiz'd thee, feaft upon thy Head, And