-&SOPS FABLES. Who, while the Clock ftruck Twelve, did run a Mile, And fliakes with thund'ring Hoofs the rotten Soil. And now the day was come, the hour drew on, When (even Steeds, fwift as... Show more
-&SOPS FABLES. Who, while the Clock ftruck Twelve, did run a Mile, And fliakes with thund'ring Hoofs the rotten Soil. And now the day was come, the hour drew on, When (even Steeds, fwift as thofedrcvv Phaeton, Were match'd to run for a huge Golden Bowl; Which,crown'd with Wine,muft glad his Mailer's foul That wins the Cup. Dafle fo well was known On his fide all would Bet, but 'gainft him, none. To the firft Poft they came, Jochps were weigh'd, Great Cracks on each fide were^and Wagers laid. The Signal's given, at once fevcn Champions ftart, i/,, Now Spurjnow Switch,Hank,Loofe,no little Art Their Riders fhew : Low as theirHorfer Ear Bending their Heads, they break refilling Air. The Earth with Hoofs, the Skies with Clamors rore, While Voices tumbled eccho on the Shore. But as Swift Dafle far did all out-ftrip, Ah dire Miichance! he ftrain'd and fhot his Hip; ' Thus fhaken out, he and his Rider droop, While in a duffy Cloud on goes the Troop. Here our f<xd Tale begins,This Steed unfit To run the Race, or with a burnifh'dBit To bear his wealthy Lord with Proud fhort Steps, Difgrace for all his former Service reaps: They take from him his Trappings, Silk, and Gold, And to a cruel Car-man he is fold, Labour'd all Day,and fed at Night with Grains^ He Dreams of Loads, fteep HiJ%a|id' narrow Lanes. With's Cart at's Back, weary and ill Arrai'd"; ; The Afs elpi'd him,an,d thus vapp.uring Brai'd j ' v, A Sir, I'm miftakenif I did nof-meet v , : ; Your Horf-iliip lately in.^his, vy^iqdingStj-eqt^: -.-.,: \ \ But you'r much alter'd in a little time, You'r lean, and poor, then fat,and in your prime; N 2 Where's
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Where's all the gallant Furniture you had ? How ruftily you look in Leather clad ? Nor your fbft Neck bends proudly in a Trot, With Ladies in a Belgick Chariot, Bounding on Velvet Beds; nor I... Show more
Where's all the gallant Furniture you had ? How ruftily you look in Leather clad ? Nor your fbft Neck bends proudly in a Trot, With Ladies in a Belgick Chariot, Bounding on Velvet Beds; nor I difcern No golden Scutcheons,on your gilded Stern; Your Wheels not thunder,nor your Axes flame; This is a Cart ; you draw as if you'r lame. Thus are proud Mortals paid, and them that fyiow No Mean in Blifs^Jball have no Mean of Woe ; And this fhall be the greateft Gall to Pride, W^hom they fcorn'd rich,grown poor,fhall them deride. Moral. Let no Profterity move Arrogance; Lity April are the fickle Brows of Chance : But when foe moft feemsfor theey then provide With Caution to allay dr-fwelling Pride. Fab.
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Fab. XXXVI. Of the Husbandman and the Wood. NEer a vail: Commons, was a mighty Grove, Protected by the(<) Hama-dryades, Which then had Manfion in thofe long-liv'd Trees; There flouriOi'd &... Show more
Fab. XXXVI. Of the Husbandman and the Wood. NEer a vail: Commons, was a mighty Grove, Protected by the(<) Hama-dryades, Which then had Manfion in thofe long-liv'd Trees; T
