In haste stept forth before the rest,
And thus the listening throng addressed:
10
’Good gods! how abject is our race,
Condemned to slavery and disgrace!
Shall we our servitude retain,
Because our sires have borne the chain?
Consider, friends, your strength and might;
’Tis conquest to assert your right.
How cumbrous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we designed for daily toil,
To drag the ploughshare through, the soil,
20
To sweat in harness through the road,
To groan beneath the carrier’s load?
How feeble are the two-legged kind!
What force is in our nerves combined!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit
To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it, heavens! Reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy disdain.
30
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger’s famished growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.’
A general nod approved the cause,
And all the circle neighed applause.
When, lo! with grave and solemn pace,
A steed advanced before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,
40
And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain:
’When I had health and strength, like you,
The toils of servitude I knew;
Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
At will I crop the year’s increase
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant, to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains.
50
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise,
To fence us from inclement skies!
For us he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter’s hay.
He sows, he reaps the harvest’s gain;
We share the toil, and share the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other’s mutual need,
60
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by heaven assigned.’
The tumult ceased. The colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.
And thus the listening throng addressed:
10
’Good gods! how abject is our race,
Condemned to slavery and disgrace!
Shall we our servitude retain,
Because our sires have borne the chain?
Consider, friends, your strength and might;
’Tis conquest to assert your right.
How cumbrous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we designed for daily toil,
To drag the ploughshare through, the soil,
20
To sweat in harness through the road,
To groan beneath the carrier’s load?
How feeble are the two-legged kind!
What force is in our nerves combined!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit
To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it, heavens! Reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy disdain.
30
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger’s famished growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.’
A general nod approved the cause,
And all the circle neighed applause.
When, lo! with grave and solemn pace,
A steed advanced before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,
40
And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain:
’When I had health and strength, like you,
The toils of servitude I knew;
Now grateful man rewards my pains,
And gives me all these wide domains.
At will I crop the year’s increase
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant, to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains.
50
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise,
To fence us from inclement skies!
For us he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter’s hay.
He sows, he reaps the harvest’s gain;
We share the toil, and share the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other’s mutual need,
60
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by heaven assigned.’
The tumult ceased. The colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.
* * * * *
FABLE XLIV.
THE HOUND AND THE HUNTSMAN.
Impertinence at first is borne
With heedless slight, or smiles of scorn;
Teased into wrath, what patience bears
The noisy fool who perseveres?
The morning wakes, the
huntsman sounds,
At once rush forth the joyful hounds.
They seek the wood with eager pace,
Through bush, through brier, explore the
chase.
Now scattered wide, they try the plain,
And snuff the dewy turf in vain.