The multitude with horror fled,
And in his oozy bed
Each skulking coward hid his head.
When all is now grown calm again,
And smoothly glides the liquid plain,
A Frog more resolute and bold,
Peeping with caution from his hold,
Recover'd from his first surprise,
As o'er the wave his head he popp'd,
He saw---but scarce believ'd his eyes,
On the same bank where first he dropp'd
Th' imperial lubber lies,
Stretch'd at his ease, careless, content:
"Is this the monarch Jove has sent,"
Said he, 66
our warlike troops to lead?
"Ay! 'tis a glorious prince indeed!
"By such an active gen❜ral led,
"The routed mice our arms shall dread,
"Subdu'd, shall quit their claim;
"Old Homer shall recant his lays,
"For us new trophies raise,
"Sing our victorious arms, and justify our fame."
Then laughing impudently loud,
He soon alarm'd the dastard crowd.
The croaking nations with contempt
Behold the worthless indolent,
On wings of wind swift scandal flies,
Libels, lampoons, and lies,
Hoarse treasons, tuneless blasphemies.
With active leap at last upon his back they stride,
And on the royal loggerhead in triumph ride.
Once more to Jove their pray'rs addrest,
And once more Jove grants their request.
A stork he sends, of monstrous size,
Red lightning flashing in his eyes;
Rul'd by no block, as heretofore,
The gazing crowds press'd to his court,
Admire his stately mien, his haughty port,
And only not adore.
Addresses of congratulation,
Sent from each loyal corporation,
Full-freight with truth and sense,
Exhausted all their eloquence.
But now, alas! 'twas night: kings must have meat :
The Grand Vizir first goes to pot,
Three Bassas next, happy their lot!
Gain'd Paradise by being ate. *
"And this," said he, " and this is mine,
"And this, by right divine."
In short, 'twas all for public weal,
He swallow'd half a nation at a meal.
* According to the Turkish opinion, all who suffer by the Grand Seignior's orders go directly to Paradise.
Again they beg almighty Jove
This cruel tyrant to remove.
With fierce resentment in his eyes
The frowning Thunderer replies,
"Those evils which yourselves create,
"Rash fools! ye now repent too late;
"Made wretched by the public voice,
"Not thro' necessity but choice!
"Begone !---Nor wrest from Heav'n some heavier "Better bear this, this stork, than worse."
Oppress'd with happiness, and sick with ease,
Not Heav'n itself our fickle minds can please.
Fondly we wish, cloy'd with celestial store,
The leeks and onions which we loath'd before:
Still roving, still desiring, never pleas'd,
With plenty starv'd, and ev'n with health diseas'd.
With partial eyes each present good we view,
Nor covet what is best, but what is new.
Ye Pow'rs above! who make mankind your care,
To bless the supplicant reject his pray'r.
LIBERTY AND LOVE; OR, THE TWO SPARROWS.
A SPARROW and his mate,
(Believe me, gentle Kate!)
Once lov'd like I and you;
With mutual ardour join'd,
No turtles e'er so kind,
So constant and so true.
They hopp'd from spray to spray;
They bill'd, they chirp'd all day,
They cuddled close all night;
To bliss they wak'd each morn,
In every bush and thorn
Gay scenes of new delight.
At length the fowler came,
(The knave was much to blame)
And this dear pair trepann'd;
Both in one cage confin'd:
Why, faith and troth, 'twas kind;
Nay, hold---that must be scann'd.
And one coop'd up with one,
'Twas aukward, new, and strange;
For better and for worse,
O dismal, fatal curse!
No more abroad to range.
No carols now they sing,
Each droops his little wing,
And mourns his cruel fate:
Clouds on each brow appear;
My Honey and my Dear
Is now quite out of date.
They pine, lament, and moan; 'Twould melt an heart of stone To hear their sad complaint: Nor he supply'd her wants, Nor she refrain'd from taunts, That might provoke a saint.
Hard words improve to blows,
For now, grown mortal foes,
They peck, they scratch, they scream:
The cage lies on the floor,
The wires are stain'd with gore,
It swells into a stream.
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